Fantasy Order of Seven - Characters

[SilverFlight]

Rules


Please read these carefully before making your CS.

Respect all the rules of RpN.

Respect the other players and characters.

There will be no godmoding, bunnying powerplaying etc. You may write an attack/action and it is up to the owner of the targeted character to write the response and if/how a hit lands.

The npcs I create will be controlled exclusively by me unless I state otherwise. This includes enemies.

This is a literate thread so I expect at least a solid paragraph (6 full sentences) minimum per post.

If you do join I expect you to be active. If your posting falls to less than one post a week I may ask you to leave the rp. If you are going to be away, a quick note in the OOC or a pm makes it much easier for me.

I will allow only one character for newly-joined players, if I see you can be dedicated and active I may allow you more.

Please fill out the provided profile outline for your character, you may code it however, please keep the colours/layout reasonable. If I can't read it I won't accept it.

Humans are the only ones who will be able to wield the majority of the weapons the Order has in stock. They are also the only ones who can perform magic, summon or work with the warding/binding herbs. Example: a werewolf cannot wield a silver sword, even a gun loaded with a silver bullet would cause pain, so their weapons will be weaker against supernatural enemies if they use them. Basically the power balance system works like this: humans get all the neat toys but no super powers, the tainted races (vampires, demons, werewolves etc) get no toys, but cool powers.

All new races must be discussed with me in pm and their weaknesses fully defined before you make the character sheet.

All new races must have an entry into the lore section detailing their strengths, weaknesses and the trial specific to their race to join The Order of Seven. You must have read the entry for your race at least before you submit a CS.

For detailed magic techniques please discuss with me so a section can be added to the lore so everyone is on the same page.​

Character outline

Appearance: (pictures are advised but the size must be appropriate, large images must be resized to max 500pix.)
Name:
Race: (human or one of the others)
Age:
Nationality:
Gender identity:
Skills & Knowledge: (what combat style does your character use, what area of the occult are they well-versed in? If tainted, quickly re-state your race's powers and the specializations your character has– min 1 paragraph)
Weaknesses: For tainted these would be the ones stated in the lore, along with the ones you wish to add.
Personality: - min 2 paragraphs (4 FULL lines each paragraph)
Character flaws: (at least three, write in full sentences always – min 1 paragraph)
Backstory: (include how your character came to join the order and be noticed for this special task force, also define the events leading up to when the decided they wanted to join – min 3 paragraphs)
Relationships: (if you have any pre-story ties to any other characters list them here, otherwise they can be added as the story progresses.

• Active Characters
• Current NPCs

• 
  Thaddeus - Silverflight
  Krishna - Cashi
  Lilith - Dominaiscna
  Michael - Naberius
  Gabriel - MechanicalSnake
  Morvan - Vacuum
  Adrianus - The Gunrunner
  Luness - Lioness075
  Jackson - Kase9187
  
  
• TBA

 

[SilverFlight]

• Human form
• Wolf form

• 
  
  Name: Thaddeus (Tad) Grey
  Race: Werewolf
  Age: 28
  Nationality: English
  Gender identity: male
  
  Description:Thaddeus is the low-average height of 5'9". He is of a slender build and has a long face with a generally melancholy expression. His eyes are sad, but thoughtful and the same colour as his cousin's. Thaddeus has a thick beard and feral curls of dark drown hair swept towards the back of his head. He is very fond of a styled moustache and endeavors to dress finely at all times in a burgundy high-collar shirt, a dark-green vest and a grey-green overcoat. Thaddeus prefers to change fully into a wolf when he does turn, and is tall and thin, with a silky sheen to his coat. His fur is a mottled dark grey fading to black in places. White and light grey fur frame his eyes, muzzle and chin and peppers the guard hairs on his back. His eyes are a deep, blue-green colour.
  
• 
  
  Name: Thaddeus (Tad) Grey
  Race: Werewolf
  Age: 28
  Nationality: English
  Gender identity: male
  
  Description:Thaddeus is the low-average height of 5'9". He is of a slender build and has a long face with a generally melancholy expression. His eyes are sad, but thoughtful and the same colour as his cousin's. Thaddeus has a thick beard and feral curls of dark drown hair swept towards the back of his head. He is very fond of a styled moustache and endeavors to dress finely at all times in a burgundy high-collar shirt, a dark-green vest and a grey-green overcoat. Thaddeus prefers to change fully into a wolf when he does turn, and is tall and thin, with a silky sheen to his coat. His fur is a mottled dark grey fading to black in places. White and light grey fur frame his eyes, muzzle and chin and peppers the guard hairs on his back. His eyes are a deep, blue-green colour. In wolf form Thaddeus stands 5'2", though the dog glamour he wears is smaller.
  

• Skills & Knowledge
• Weaknesses
• Personality
• Character flaws
• Backstory
• Relationships

• Thaddeus has worked hard honing his supernatural capabilities. He has trained his sense of smell, tuning it to the finest possible degree, though the scents of large cities always make it difficult to use. He has spent years traveling and learning how best to control his inner beast and employs many tactics to keep himself in check. He carries no weapons and cannot carry any of the tools used by the Order against tainted but his wolf form is generally all the weapon he needs. Thaddeus has also trained extensively to employ the glamour magic used by some other tainted races to conceal his wolf form in plain sight, looking instead like a large grey wolfhound (stands 92cm, 36") that can fight in view of 'mundies' (normal folk) without causing more of a scene than a regular dog would.
  
  Spoiler: Thaddeus' dog glamour

  
  Thaddeus is also quite clever, he has trained his mind to use the analytical tactics of the best detectives he could find. He struck an accord with Scotland Yard several years back to shadow their inspectors and learned everything he could. Thaddeus therefore has become quite an effective sleuth and employs his abilities to the world of the supernatural, helping the Order solve crimes.
• Thaddeus bears the classical weaknesses of his kind: silver burns him, causing wounds which will not begin to heal unless the silver is removed. Thaddeus will tell you that the moon is a weakness too, for it can rob even the most skillfully-trained werewolf of his or her rational thought. Thaddeus is also not trained in any conventional weapon. He's a poor shot with a pistol and was utterly useless at fencing. He relies on his wolf form, which means he must transform out of sight of regular people.
• Thaddeus upon first meeting is polite but reserved. An intuitive person could determine a level of sadness in the way he carries himself, as if he has lived through more than, at times, he can bear. He does try to hide his somewhat melancholic nature under a veil of etiquette and outstanding manners, trying his best to keep relationships distant and formal. Underneath this however, Thaddeus has a deep passion for many things. He strives to love life and sees wonder in all. Thaddeus possesses an acceptance of 'differences' that far surpass the normal reservations of the society that tried to shape him and he defies the prejudices and discriminations that society places on people they deem 'other'. This includes the normal everyday groups and also groups within the Order. Thaddeus is thoughtful and possesses a child-like playfulness that he never truly grew out of. This makes him popular with children and he is generally more of himself around younger people.
  
  Thaddeus tries hard to keep people at bay, keep them out of his circle of caring. He is afraid of the animal that lurks inside him and will do much to keep it from rising to the surface or keep those he would care about far from harm. His capacity for love and caring however means he is fighting more than just the beast and he's been known to lose this particular battle. He gets attached to others quite easily despite his efforts.
  Once he does start caring for you Thaddeus is fiercely loyal and takes it upon himself to look after your well-being. Though he still tries to maintain a distance he finds this very much harder to do.
  Making Thaddeus angry is difficult. He has undergone rigorous training to keep that from happening and if you manage to begin stoking his ire he will more often than not retreat from the confrontation entirely.
  Overall Thaddeus is a gentle, thoughtful sort and as far as he can manage to be from the stereotypes placed upon his kind.
  
• Thaddeus takes control of his feral nature very seriously but this can also lead him to shy away from necessary confrontation. He is timid and reserved and tries to avoid conflict whenever he can. Thaddeus tends not to stand up for himself much, taking much of the criticism pointed at him and his kind without much protest. He has internalized a lot of the guilt and blame placed upon him by his family and has a low self-esteem. Thaddeus can sometimes be absent-minded when he has a complex puzzle occupying his mind. He is the type who forgets to eat sometimes, or forgets he was speaking to someone or doing something. Thaddeus' biggest fear is of being close with other people. He tries to maintain an emotional distance from everyone, even though the outcome is loneliness. He does not succeed with maintaining it every time, however the fact that he still tries can sometimes make things a bit awkward.
• Thaddeus was raised in London, a young boy with big dreams. He was never the most fit child and constantly suffered from ill health. Some of his most cherished memories were of playing with his cousins in their country home every summer. Thaddeus wanted badly to leave and travel the world, a subject that was the center of many of the games he invented on those hot summer days. It was Thaddeus who first introduced the idea of a world beyond what they saw. From a very young age he claimed he could see wisps, ghosts and other spirits. Iona played along, though Thaddeus knew she couldn't really see them too.
  As they grew Iona became more studious, investing her time into the real world and the practical things within it. Thaddeus meanwhile did poorly at school, preferring instead to read books on far-off places and daring adventures. He did have one subject he adored however: Science. Thaddeus loved how science explained things that seemed inexplicable, solved mysteries and uncovered truth. Thaddeus worked hard to absorb the processes of logic and critical thinking and apply them to his everyday life.
  
  Before the summer, when Thaddeus had just turned 19 his professor actually recommended him for a position at Oxford, under some of the most influential scientific minds of the time....Thaddeus would never meet them.
  The summer brought something new: Thaddeus met him one day when Iona had refused to go walking. Sebastian's family had brought the property not a mile away. They had moved from France and everything about the new boy was everything Thaddeus adored about the world; he was mysterious, and exotic and he too had a passion for uncovering truth. One of the most fascinating things about him Thaddeus would discover soon after, a fact that Sebastian shared in confidence, and demonstrated when Thaddeus would not believe it. Sebastian was a werewolf.
  He told Thaddeus of the order, of how they protected mankind, and what they asked of members with special...conditions like he had. He told Thaddeus proudly that he had already held control of himself for four long years and in one more he could apply to become a member.
  
  Thaddeus kept this part of his summer a secret, for he was frightened of a great many things if anyone were to find out: He was afraid speaking would put Sebastian in danger, and afraid of what his family would think if they found out about Thaddeus' relationship with him, he was also afraid that if his father found out he would never be allowed to see Sebastian again, and never allowed to learn more about the order.
  Thaddeus had known that Sebastian's relationship with his own father was strained, what he had not known was that the night of the full moon Sebastian had come out to his father, and revealed his feelings for Thaddeus. The fight was a heated one. It ended with Sebastian rushing out into the night, too angry to remember what night it was...
  
  Thaddeus saw the eyes before anything else, glowing and rage-filled. There wasn't an inch of Sebastian left in those eyes, still Thaddeus called out to him, tried to get him out of the beast's head. Thaddeus remembered searing pain, blood and screams...his own screams.
  When he managed to grab a hold of his senses Iona was cradling him, a woman he didn't know was cleaning a silver sword, and she was standing over the body of a dead wolf.
  Thaddeus was inconsolable for months. He was also confined at the Order's safe house until he could fully gain control of his powers and the beast he now held inside. In that time he grieved, then he began to think. Part of him wanted to hate the order for killing Sebastian, part of him wanted revenge, but that was the part that fed the beast, and he could feel it now, prowling his darker thoughts, waiting for a gap in his defenses to slip through and take control. Thaddeus needed their help. Six months later Thaddeus was released. He had met with the hunter who had killed his lover and made his peace with her. Then, Thaddeus left Britain to travel the world, promising that one day he would return and take a position in the order, just like Sebastian wanted to do.
• 
  TBA

 

[Dominaiscna]

Name: Lilith Beaumont
Race: Vampire
Age: 27
Nationality: English
Gender identity: female

Appearance:
Lilith is a young woman of fine features and stands at 5'8 with a slender build. Her hair is long and dark, and is generally styled back away from her face. Her eyes, large and slightly slanted, are an enchanting grey-brown. Her skin is pale, with a light dusting of freckles around her nose. She puts great effort into the maintenance of her appearance - which is less to do with a desire to look attractive, and more to maintain control over elements of herself (this is somewhat complicated by the fact that she has no reflection.... but she makes do). Generally, she prefers to wear clothes of black, pale blue and/or white. Unless it is some sort of evening wear or she is pairing her dress with coat or cloak, all of her dresses have high collars and full sleeves do protect her skin from direct sunlight - which Lilith finds to be incredibly inconvenient in particularly hot weather. She generally does not leave the house without a pair of silk gloves and will often make use of a parasol or veiled hat, or both when outdoors. She has a particular fancy for hair accessories and will often style her hair with various clips and adornments.

• Skills & Knowledge
• Weaknesses
• Personality
• Character flaws
• Backstory
• Relationships

• 
  As a vampire, Lilith has special abilities that only manifest at night. Aside from superior strength, she is naturally faster and lighter on her feet than humans. Her senses such as seeing and hearing also far surpass the sensory capabilities of humans. She also has the ability to detect other vampires within a certain distance. She has had years of experience with cultivating and putting her unique strengths as a vampire into practice, thanks to the tutelage of her guardian, Michael, making her a dangerous foe in combat (though again, a dress may hinder this slightly). Like other vampires, she has cultivated the ability to shapeshift into a bat.
  She is proficient with most light melee weapons such as daggers and knives, and knows her way around handling a sword. Though she knows how to use ranged weapons such as guns, though she is not confident in her handling.
  
  Lilith is naturally very perceptive, a born observer and analyst. She notices even the smallest, seemingly insignificant of details, that most eyes would overlook. She enjoys seeking out information and understanding situations and peoples from all angles.
  She is very learned and well read - with a vast knowledge on a variety of subjects. Her mother tongue is English, though she is also fluent in French and somewhat in Italian. She can read Latin.
  She also has a good understanding of vampire society and vampires as race -- though most of this information is passed down to her via her guardian, Michael. While she does have some personal experience of vampire society, it is very limited - due to both her and Michael's affiliation with the Order.
  
  
• 
  As a vampire, Lilith is naturally weak to sunlight and silver, and makes it her business to avoid those two things as much as possible. She is somewhat saddened by this weakness, as her human self particularly enjoyed sunny days and jewelry made of shining, glittery silver.
  Though she has been trained to make the best use of her vampire abilities, Lilith has very little combat experience in the field. Most of her combat practice has come from sparring with Michael or Fabian.
  
  This is more a character quirk than a weakness, but Lilith gets anxious and uncomfortable when it comes to rain or rainy days. The two major tragic events in her life all happened on rainy nights - and as a result, she unconsciously sees rain as a bad omen. She has been working at ridding herself of this anxiety, though this has not been particularly successful.
  
  
• 
  Lilith was born charming and charismatic - a smooth and sweet talker with a gentle yet alluring and sure smile. She is witty, has a way with words and is very comfortable with socializing with others - even complete strangers. Deception and persuasion comes easily to her. Despite her charm and charisma, Lilith is quite reserved and slow to open. Though she smiles gentle and friendly, the vampire does not trust nor attach easily. She has had only a few people in her life whom she holds close, and those are namely Fabian, Michael and her governess. To those select few, she is fiercely loyal and is willing to go to any lengths for them. She takes pride in her ability to keep up an appearance of cool composure. She does find slight discomfort when near a vampire she does not personally know - but rarely will she let this unease show on her face.
  
  Lilith holds a strong desire to always have control over herself and most if not all aspects of her life - and this manifests in many ways, the upkeep of her appearance, the close control of her words and actions and desire to observe, analyze and understand the people and situations she comes across. Her eyes seldom radiate warmth, and are generally cold and dark, ever watching and observing. She strives to not expose her weaknesses or shortcomings, lest these be used against her - and as such, often avoids talking about matters related to the important people of her life. She seeks to constantly put forward this barrier between herself and others, one that they cannot detect nor ever see past.
  
  Beneath the surface, she is ruthless and unflinching in her resolve. She does not bother too much with morals and will do whatever she deems necessary to achieve her own goals -- unless it is at the detriment of herself or her important people. She values good planning, and will take time to pick apart and analyze a situation to select the best course of action. That being said, she also values efficiency -- and can be annoyed by the senseless wasting of time on trivial things. She will not bat an eye at violence and will not hesitate to resort to violence if it is absolutely necessary -- even if it may result in death or serious injury to others. That is not to say she is sadistic -- she has no desire to hurt others, but if will do whatever she deems necessary.
  Despite having had her identity as a vampire forced upon her, Lilith embraced her new self. She takes pride in her race and has great confidence in her power and strength. That being said, she harbors a general mistrust for other vampires as, aside from Michael her guardian, other vampires have brought nothing but misfortune to her life.
  On another note, she is a devoted bookworm (non-fiction) and exhibits a strong desire to learn and understand. She enjoys drinking both tea and alcoholic beverages, and is particularly fond of cats and birds.
  
• 
  Lilith finds trouble with forming meaningful emotional connections, despite her charismatic nature. This is largely due to her facade, one she has kept for so long that it is difficult for her lower her barrier to others. Also, when she was younger, she did not have much of any opportunities to meet and interact with people outside of the home. By the time she reached adulthood, Lilith was a master of talking and smiling, but novice at mattered of the heart. Her moral compass is straight up non-existent. Even though she knows not to show this aspect of herself, she really has no issue with doing morally questionable things. Does not wish disaster upon others, nor does she particularly care for the well being of people outside of her circle. A person's value to her is largely dependent on how useful she deems them.
  She can also become overly confident in her abilities, and despite her careful habit of planning, she can make very reckless decisions.
  
  However, another major flaw is the very fact that she can hide her flaws very well. As a result, it is often much harder to detect these issues she has, and even harder to deal with and solve them.
  
  
• 
  Lilith was born into an upper-middle class family. Her parents, Benjamin and Elizabeth Beaumont, were murdered at their home one rainy night by strange creatures of the dark. A 7-year-old Lilith and her 3-year-old little brother Fabian were saved by a close friend of their father, a young nobleman and vampire by the name of Sir. Michael Rye, who at the time was staying at the family home. The vampire felt personally responsible for what happened to their parents and took the two young children under his wing. He ensured that they lived comfortably under his roof with maids to look after them (particularly the weak bodied Fabian) and a governess to manage their studies. Despite his obvious care for the siblings, he was somewhat cold and odd in character, and generally seemed to avoid interacting or forming any bonds with the siblings, preferring to seclude himself in his study on most days. Lilith noticed early on that he often looked at them with sad and pained eyes.
  
  As time passed, and due to the urging of their governess, Michael slowly warmed up to Lilith and Fabian. He became somewhat of a fatherly figure to them and the children were incredibly fond of him. He spent most of the day working and often went on trips for work, but he tried to spare time for them, giving them little gifts here and there, or wishing them goodnight every once in a while.
  
  Under his care and support, Lilith and Fabian grew up well. Lilith in particular was incredibly gifted in academics and exhibited a great interest in reading and learning. Michael taught Lilith how to play chess and often, when he had the time, the two would sit in his study, playing over warm tea. To further nurture her desire to learn, Michael brought back many books from his travels abroad - with subjects ranging from language and culture, to mathematics, science and philosophy.
  
  For the most part, their guardian did not talk about himself much. He generally avoided topics of his work and spoke very little about him being a vampire. Nevertheless, Lilith and Fabian looked up to him as a role model and the fatherly figure they needed, even if he was no longer human.
  
  ~~
  
  One night, when Lilith was 20, several creatures of the dark broke into the home. They rampaged from room to room, seemingly in search of something. Lilith and Fabian were notified very early on that something was wrong, when the screams of servants echoed down the halls to their bedrooms. In order to protect her sickly brother, Lilith barricaded herself in with him in his bedroom. One of the vampires eventually passed the bedroom and forced his way in with eyes burning of a deep hunger. Lilith put herself between it and her brother, but she was no match for him and he easily restrained her, sinking his fangs into her neck. He all but drained her, and would have moved on to Fabian, had a blood-covered Michael not reached them in time. After defeating the other vampire, their guardian gathered the dying Lilith in his arms. In order to save her from death, Michael made the decision to turned her into a vampire.
  
  Lilith was unconscious for days after, barely more than a pale figure still beneath the covers. Fabian and Michael were a constant presence at her bedside. When she did eventually regain consciousness, Michael spent most of his time monitoring her condition, hovering over the fledgling like a concerned parent. It took much time for Lilith's body to stabilize, and even more time for her to come to terms with the reality that she was no longer human, that a part of her had died that fateful night.
  
  While Lilith was still bedridden, Michael also revealed that aside from his usual business, he was also involved in the affairs of an organization called the Order, having worked for them even during his time as a human. Vampires who knew of his affiliation with the organization saw him as a notable threat. As a result, his connection with the Order had, in his many years of service, painted a target on his back and the backs of all those who surrounded him - including Benjamin and Elizabeth Beaumont, and Lilith herself.
  
  When she was ready, Michael began teaching her all she needed to know as a fledgling vampire. He trained her to have near perfect control over her new abilities and powers, so that she would be more than prepared to defend and fight for herself those she holds dear. Lilith later expressed her desire to join the Order. Membership would provide her with the resources to strengthen herself even more, while also allowing her to assist Michael in his Order-related work. And if it meant eradicating the threat to the well beings of her loved ones, she was willing to do whatever it took.
  
  
  
• 
  Fabian Beaumont - biological younger brother, alive, human - her only known living blood relative and someone whom she shares a very close relationship
  Sir. Michael Rye - guardian, fatherly figure and close friend - the person whom Lilith owes her life to and with whom she also shares a very close relationship.
  Benjamin Beaumont - biological father, deceased
  Elizabeth Beaumont - biological mother, deceased
  
  

 

[ADarkAndStormyNight]

Name: Joseph Lassiter
Race: Human
Age: 25
Nationality: American
Gender identity: Male
Skills & Knowledge: Joseph is very proficient in melee/hand to hand combat, defaulting to it in most cases of fighting. He carried with him a pair of brass knuckles tipped in silver- which, technically, might make them Silver Knuckles. He's a well-trained swordsman, but not at all a revolutionary fighter with steel. Just enough knowledge to hold his own. Magic-wise, he's most effective at Conjuring, having studied it well in his years.
Weaknesses: Joseph is a terrible shot- dreadful, actually. He claims this to be because of a blow to the face he took when he was 17, but in reality, he's just poor shot. Because of this, he avoids using pistols unless he's within a close enough range that a hit is practically guaranteed.
Personality: - Joseph is only a little intimidating- growing up in the streets made him very fighting focused, and he dislikes having to plan things out. It also made him very stubborn; less so in recent years, but his training could only do so much. He tends to dislike most supernatural creatures, as his experience with them for most his life was less than stellar. He likes to mess with people, which puts him in the ire of a few of his more serious peers, but he never really seems to mind. After all, according to Joseph, a life without a bit of fun is ultimately a waste. Few argue with that, mainly because of the fact Joseph would probably beat them up if they did.

Despite his intimidating posture, however, Joseph isn't a bad guy. He has a good sense of kinship, having to rely on the goodwill of others for a majority of his life. He's not incredibly well educated, but has a relatively good education compared to many others of his standing. He enjoys other people, and seeks to please- to the point it's almost annoying. He's consistently amazed by high society, which he's glamorized a good deal of his life. Joseph enjoys discussing with those much smarter than him, and will often mimic their speech in order to sound smarter himself (which, in reality, he isn't really). He learned that as long as he attempts to look the part, and act like he belongs, he can pretty much go anywhere he wants.

Character flaws: Joseph is wary to trust anyone/anything that isn't human. It isn't so much that he HATES them... but something always feels weird about working alongside them. This can have disastrous results, especially considering the fact he often lets something offensive slip to his supernatural peers. He's incredibly loyal, and easy to convince to do things for you if he trusts you. And when he puts his minds to a task, he almost refuses to not do it, for any reason.

Backstory: Joseph's parents both died when he was very, very young. He doesn't remember much- he remembers his mother to be beautiful, and his father to be smart. He never could remember what his dad did, but he remembers a lot of writing. Joseph was the only one of them to survive after a fire burnt down their house. With no other family to rely on, he grew up an orphan in the crowded streets of New York- one of almost thousands. He was left to an orphanage, where he was forced to work in a factory. He worked there for almost no pay, and for little food, for years. That was until, when he was 8 years old, he and a few older orphans managed to run off. They became day laborers, working small jobs for anyone with money. Joseph started fighting in boxing matches for extra money, which he was quite good at.

Joseph began selling his services as a body guard at around 14, though the years of factory work and boxing made him look much older. He was hired to do a job by a mysterious Frenchman, around thirty years of age. Joseph wasn't told what the job was, only to keep a look out for the older man as he'd do a variety of odd tasks- which Joseph was never allowed to hear about. The man must have gotten good service, as he picked Josephs up for these tasks for a while, and it got to the point that Joseph was hired regularly by the mysterious man. It was always the same- good pay, little work, and a lot of unanswered questions. On one of the jobs, Joseph was attacked by a wolf, which he managed to fight off. It was about to bite him, when the mysterious man shot it. That was the first non-human encounter Joseph had.

The mysterious man became friendlier with Joseph, and offered him a job as his full time body guard. This man was Marquis de Frome, a hunter and researcher of the paranormal- and a member of the Order. He had traveled to America after hearing of a good deal of unaccounted supernatural activity. Joseph learned much of the Marquis' habits by example, memorizing his actions and methods. At the same time, Joseph taught himself to read and write, using de Frome's massive library. He gave himself an extensive education of literature and history, most of which he had never heard of before. And he studied the Frenchman's ways. He became one of the few in America with a proper, European occult knowledge. When Joseph was 23, Marquis sailed back to Europe, and took Joseph with him, so that Joseph could further his education.

Relationships: Marquis de Frome, mentor/father figure

 

[Cashi]

Name: Krishna Jameson

Race: Vampire

Age: 34

Nationality: Indian

Gender Identity: Cisgendered Male

Appearance:
Krishna is dark skinned and dark eyed, and keeps his longish chestnut hair swept back beneath a top hat. He stands at a humble 5'10. In daytime, he wears a thick woolen coat regardless of weather, and a black bandanna around his neck and mouth, as well as a pair of blue tinted eyeglasses to weaken the effects of the sun. His dark leather gloves are ever present, lest his tainted self come into contact with any substance that might hurt him--such as holy oils and water. Krishna is fine-boned and clean-shaven, with thick, black eyelashes and a full mouth in a handsome face. At night time he is more gentlemanly attired in a three-piece suit withe fancy coat tails, a favourite walking stick often clutched in one hand. His suits vary on the darker side of the shade spectrum, often ranging in blacks and greys, and occasionally browns (his most colourful outfit being a jacket of navy blue). His suits are well-tailored and simple, made for comfort rather than a show of wealth.

• Skills & Knowledge
• Weaknesses
• Powers
• Personality
• Flaws
• Backstory
• Relationships

• Still being a recently turned vampire, Krishna has not had very long to train with The Order and therefore his skills with the weapons The Order chose for him are not as practiced as they could be. Krishna relies on twin daggers concealed beneath the sleeves of his suits, one for each forearm, that are sheathed in a contraption of brass cogs and leather. They may be sprung at will into his palms, but require close combat to be effective. The daggers are simple, with a thick width, ridged on one side, as long as his forearms with the hilt. Krishna also relies on any magical artifacts provided by The Order, as well as the...gifts...bestowed upon him by his newfound vampirehood.
• Krishna is not as adept at fighting with his daggers as some of his fellow Order members, having only begun training fairly recently. He is also not overly fond of conflict, which makes it harder for him to desire to fight, but he will do what he must for the pledge he swore, and for his revenge against a particular sinister character. Then there’s the silver and sunlight. The consistent fog and cloud cover in London makes for a slightly easier commute around the city during daytime, however Krishna has been trapped by sunlight before and endeavours to be much more cautious with how and when he travels to best avoid the sun. One particular item that terrifies Krishna most is mirrors. Not only does the silver within repel him, but the fact that he, or anyone standing next to him, may no longer see his reflection is a horrifying notion that has him avoiding any mirrors whenever possible.
• Superhuman Strength
  Previously known by The Order and thusly discovered by Krishna when, upon awakening freshly turned, a nurse handed him a glass of water which exploded as soon as he touched it, showering both he and the nurse in shards of glass and water. Krishna has been training with The Order to control his strength so that he might close a door like any normal person instead of splintering it and carrying the handle with him into the next room.
  
  Shape-shifting
  This was also an ability Krishna stumbled upon by accident during a preliminary interview with a resident psychiatrist working for The Order. As he sat bundled in a blanket, Krishna was interrogated repeatedly on the events of the night he was turned and his former relationship with one Nathaniel Jameson. In the middle of repeating an answer to a question, Krishna sneezed--and ceased to exist in a human form, instead finding himself battering around the room on small, leathery wings, utterly baffled and panicked. After about an hour of flitting about the tiny interrogation room in the form of a meek black bat, Krishna was tuckered enough that he changed back into his familiar human self about 6 feet in the air, and crashed through the table in the center of the room.
  
  Blood Magic
  The Order had the foresight to prepare Krishna for this particular ability, warning him that certain vampires occasionally come away with a kind of magic tied to their bond to blood. They practiced with him as he struggled to discover if he had any hint of blood magic, and in what form it might manifest (he silently prayed it wasn't another surprise like the bat fiasco). His power was discovered without any incident; his closest confident in The Order, who trained with him daily, had cut herself on the dossier she held against her chest. Transfixed, acting almost upon instinct, Krishna had seized up her hand and focused, no sound in his ears but a delicate ringing. He brushed his thumb over her finger and the wound was gone. When he realised himself, the Order member he'd healed had one hand on her silver pistol, but was smiling warmly at him (though she told him later his eyes had gone a bit peculiar, almost red, which had alarmed her greatly).
• Quiet, reserved, kind, and peaceful. Some may call him something of a doormat, some may call him private. Krishna is a soft man, not fond of violence or confrontation. He would sooner light a cigarette and mumble apologies then prolong an argument, and stays near the back of the crowd.
  Krishna tries his utmost to be fair and courteous to all he encounters, even those prejudiced against him for his u tainted nature. His smiles are shy, but in a familiar group he is more open and outgoing. He is a scholar, fond of a good book, and a tradesman. Where Nathaniel was outgoing and fiery, daring, drawing energy from those around him, Krishna is more subdued and introverted, happy to have followed Nathaniel’s vivacious personality like a moth to a flame.
  Concealed beneath the cool calmness of his superego, Krishna hides a fair deal of guilt. Guilt towards his mother, for leaving her behind despite her wishes for him to move to London, guilt to his adoptive family that he has not been able to bring himself to see them after he turned, and guilt for being changed into something he never asked, something so much more dangerous than he ever wanted to be. The shame of consuming blood on a monthly basis, no matter that it is freely given, eats at him. He fears being treated as what he believes he is: a monster.
  Krishna rarely shows any kind of temper, however he has been known to launch into rages with a complete loss of control and mind whenever pushed about Lord O’hair and Nathaniel Jameson. Inciting Krishna enough to trigger him in such a manner is no small feat, as his self-control and presence of mind tend to be two of his most practiced traits; as well as the fact that if he loses control he feels he is no better than the beast he has been made into.
  As the supernatural world is still relatively new to Krishna, he may occasionally be taken aback when encountering races he is unfamiliar with. At this point he thinks to himself that nothing might surprise him, then he discovers the existence of sphinxes and finds himself asea once more. It is not within him to be prejudiced, as he understands very intrinsically what it is like to be different; for one, growing up as an Indian man in London, England, and for another finding himself transformed into one of the dreadful things that go bump in the night. He consoles himself with the idea that he might use what he considers his curse to bring to justice the monsters that prey on the weak.
• While Krishna’s quiet and subdued nature can sometimes be a benefit, it has also been known to be a downside. He struggles with being firm in his convictions and tends to back down to other people who are more forthright and dominant in their opinions.
  Krishna is soft-hearted and inclined to help the weak and those in need--even at the cost of himself, The Order, or those around him. In his closest relationship, Krishna was never the one who had to make hard calls.
  Unused to dealing with supernatural occurrences, Krishna is also occasionally blind to some of the dangers presented to him. He might not notice that a woman chatting with him has particularly elongated teeth and nails, or that the boy offering him a shoe-polish cannot be seen by anyone else. In training, The Order has had to warn him more than once to be careful and mistrustful of those he does not know well. His gentlemanly composure is a knee-jerk reaction, and it makes little sense to him to first be suspicious of an elderly woman and her abnormal eyes rather than offer to hail her a carriage.
  The only time Krishna has ever been known to show a temper is at any careless mention of Lord William O’hair or Nathaniel. Once, during training, a member of The Order insulted Nathaniel’s character in Krishna’s presence, whereupon Krishna found himself in his right mind again 20 minutes later, chained and bound against a wall while medical staff belonging to The Order carried the man who had made the slight out on a stretcher.
• Krishna was born in Bombay, India, to a single mother (his father having died before he was born). His mother worked as a servant to a British family that had moved to India a few years prior. The family, known as the Jameson's, consisted of a wealthy and successful father with an established business in trade, a doting socialite mother, and two children: a boy named Nathaniel who was about four years older than Krishna, and an eldest daughter. At the age of 13, Krishna moved with the Jameson's to London as he had become the very favourite friend of Nathaniel--Krishna’s mother, however, stayed behind. After living with the Jameson's for a while it became clear to Krishna that while Nathaniel was Mr. Jameson's son, he was not a child of Mrs. Jameson. Nathaniel's mother had been an Indian woman, and that was all Krishna knew of the matter. Nathaniel assumed his father's company after his father died--Nathaniel was about 20 at the time. He appointed Krishna as his partner and together they ran the Jameson Trading Company. For eight years, Krishna and Nathaniel were inseparable. Then things changed.
  Nathaniel began to visit the darker and more crime ridden parts of London regularly, enjoyed the company of its shadier denizens, and started throwing lavish parties that descended into drugged gatherings of depravity.
  During one such party, Nathaniel introduced Krishna to Lord William O'hair, a mysterious and attractive Irishman, whom Krishna saw often around the house from then on.
  Nathaniel became slightly unhinged, almost frenetic in his demeanor, and kept one hand firmly planted on Krishna’s arm as he dragged them both downwards to darker and darker places.
  Krishna tried to confront Nathaniel about his behaviours, but every intervention had Nathaniel convincing Krishna of his innocence and good intentions.
  It wasn't until a still and fateful night where Nathaniel dragged Krishna out of bed and to a dark parkette several blocks away, where William waited in silence, that Krishna realised his friend and partner was further gone than he'd thought, and was at this point past all hope of redemption.
  Krishna remembered fear, sharp and pungent, and a pain so cold it felt hot, and Nathaniel saying over and over how they would be together forever.
  He woke up in a hospital bed in The Order's headquarters. They'd found Krishna while hunting down William. The Order had not been able to catch him, but they did eventually catch and kill Nathaniel.
  After his transformation, and upon discovery of his various assets as a meek and obedient Tainted (and due to the soft heart of one of the members), The Order noted Krishna's desire for revenge against William and trained him to be a part of their society.
• 
  Nila - Birth Mother
  Tiffany Jameson - Adoptive Mother
  Arianna Jameson - Adoptive Older Sister
  Nathaniel Jameson (deceased) - Friend, Brother, and perhaps something else.
  Lord William O’hair - Sire, Sworn Enemy
  

 

[MechanicalSnake]

GABRIEL GLADSTONE

Appearance:




(Not period accurate, this stuff is hard to find).
Name: Gabrial Adrian Gladstone
Race: Human
Age: 25
Nationality: British/Scottish
Gender identity: Male, gay

Skills & Knowledge: Gabriel‘s main strength is science, both on the theoretical and practical level. He is highly intelligent and well-studied, capable of creating unique inventions, which include, among others, a selection of mechanical animals with practical use – an owl that can record messages, a cat with deadly claws that pisses acid, a mechanical firefly and a couple of spiders that can open any non-magiacal lock. Aside of that, he also has a dog made of flesh and bone, whose head look suspiciously like it‘s been transplanted from another animal. But… that‘s not possible, or is it?! Another of his companions is a half-mechanical ferret, Sir William Florence - literally a "roadkill" that has lost the hind legs and part of its body in a charriot accident and was nursed back to health by Gabriel, equipped with mechanical legs, tail and spine.

He‘s well versed in enhancing and maintaining weapons as well as using them, and, just like many aristocrats, excells at fencing, horse riding and hunting. When it comes to social life, Gabriel is charismatic enough to weasel his way into many places, but unfortunately, he is also persona non grata in many places.


Weaknesses: According to his father‘s words, Gabriel is not much of a man. Him being too effeminate has definitely gotten him in trouble several times. When fighting without proper weapons, he will probably get banged up by most of anyone, even though he… can run pretty fast. As a scientist, he has little prior experience with the supernatural and finds some things hard to believe still, if thoroughly fascinating. After only a year and half with the Order, he has much to learn. And… he doesn‘t really deal with tough conditions (such as dirt, zero sleep and disgusting food) all too well. He will deal, but he will complain.

Personality: Gabriel spends most of his time sitting on the fence between enthusiastic and sarcastic, hiding his traumas and insecurities (of which there are plenty) behind his easy-going, non-chalant mask. He loves science, animals, sex, good wine, good cheese, adventure, new clothes, learning new things, in no particular order. And if he loves something, he is incredibly loyal to it to the point of addiction. What he doesn‘t like are bigots, authorities, poverty, dirt, small talk, being belittled for what he‘s like, and most of ordinary people, in no particular order. And when he doesn‘t like something, he does so with passion.

On the surface, Gabriel may seem a little shallow at times, but pay attention and his intelligence and deep thoughts come to light. However, he is aware that those are not what makes a person popular in the company of his peers. In the Order, he is learning how to be more serious and leave some of the escapades of his youth behind, but, of course, only to a certain extent. Overall, he is a person most will love or hate, nothing inbetween. He is known to a wild child of sorts, and while part of that is his true character, part boils down to his need to rebel against the oppressive family he grew up in. He's resigned to the fact that he'll never know love in any form, and so he enjoys everything else that life has to offer, choosing to be considered an abomination over a lifetime of pretense, with all the disadvantages that come with it.

Character flaws: We can‘t really say Gabriel is an asshole, because… well, he‘s not. We also can‘t say he is a spoiled brat. We can‘t really say that he is an alcoholic and drug addict, or a manwhore. That‘s all just rumours. However, there‘s a bit of truth in every rumour. He certainly is somewhat promiscuous, bratty, frivolous, too rude for a noble, and he does like his liquior (and, occasionally, his shisha). He is also totally NOT a mad scientist. Yet.

Backstory:
Gabriel Adrian Gladstone was born in 1825 in Liverpool as the 6th child of scottish Baronet Sir John Gladstone. His father was Member of the Parliament, an aristocrat and a renowned businessman, who got extremely rich mainly through slavery, owning several plantations in Jamaica and Guyana. After the passage of the Slavery Abolition Act, Gladstone received a huge compensation and, instead of African workers, moved on to abusing poor employees from India, whom he attracted through false promises of providing them schools and medical attention. An overall disgusting man, Gabriel‘s father didn‘t treat his children with any more respect than he did his servants, especially if they misbehaved or – horror of horrors – shamed him in public. Gabriel‘s mother was a very religious, withdrawn woman who, however, greatly enjoyed the benefits of nobility and prefered to let her husband have his way in all matters, just as long as she was taken care of and comfortable throughout her life.

As the youngest child by far, Gabriel had almost all the attention of his parents for himself growing up, be it positive or negative. At the same time, his older siblings were often dangled in front of him as examples of perfection: each and every one of them was, supposedly, pious, well-behaved, and on their way to becoming politicians, lawyers, priests or good wives. Gabriel was neither, and he had no interest in trying. He was born with a wild, inquisitive spirit, a penchant for mischief and, unfortunately, attraction to other boys, equal to his interest in technology and science – the latter being something his family was initially supportive of. That is, until their son‘s experiements became inconvenient, such as the famous incident where thousands of ants flooded the dinner table at a banquet, having escaped from a contraption in which Gabriel had trapped them, attempting to harvest their work for creating an energy source. And there was the other incident with grandfather‘s massive clock that nobody mentions anymore…

In any case, throughout his life, Gabriel received little love at home, but he did receive amazing education at the best schools as well as by private tutors, renowned scientists. At 17, he was glad to move out of home to study at the University of London, the family providing enough money for a life filled with both studies and debauchery. Gabriel soon become the favorite student of most professors and the life of every party, enjoying anything and everything from opium through absinthe to whichever man that happened to find him irresistable. Fuelled by alcohol, drugs, and the admiration and support of fellow students and scientist, he began to conduct even more daring experiments, focusing mainly on mechanics and mechatronics, and eventually became a well-known capacity in the field.

At the same time, however, he also became a persona non grata in aristocratic circles, because his behavior in London didn‘t remain hidden from his parents. After several interventions by his older siblings, Gabriel (aged 23 at that point) was ordered to return home after his university graduation, with hopes that he could be forced to quit that nonsense and settle down with the right kind of bride. Needless to say that this didn‘t go too well, and, to add insult to injury, instead of paying attention to his possible future bride, Gabriel used the opportunity to hump one of his father‘s servants and was seen leaving with him after dinner. That was the last drop, after which Gladstone senior finally kicked Gabriel out with nothing but one suitcases, his horse and all the inventions cluttering the basement and attic, and proceeded to having Gabriel legally disowned and his name removed from his will.

For the first time in his life, Gabriel was in serious need of work, because he couldn‘t afford his rent for longer than a month or two. Desperate, he began selling his inventions and creating custom-ones for the highest paying customers he could find, keeping only two or three he cared about most. Unfortunately, his standard of life was unusually high and he still struggled to make ends meet, and so it was great luck that he bumped into the Order, or rather the Order bumped into him. Back then, they were investigating a case that involved a machine possessed by a demon, something that required a scientist‘s expertise, and he happened to be a contact they were advised to approach. He ended up proving himself not only as an expert mechanic, but also in an encounter with the cult which created the demon/machine that followed, and was eventually recruited as a member. Having his eyes opened to the supernatural world he‘d known little about prior to that was, in Gabriel‘s words, the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Relationships:

Parents:
Anne MacKenzie Robertson
Sir John Gladstone
Sibings:
Anne
Thomas
Robertson
John
William
Helen

NOTE: I took the liberty of using real historical characters, whose family does not include Gabriel, if you look them up on WIki. Maybe that's because he was disowned? Maybe I made him up? Who knows!

 

[Naberius]

• Basic Info
• Skills and Abilities
• Weaknesses
• Personality
• Personality Flaws
• Backstory

• 
  
  
  
  
  Spoiler: Demonic Form

  
  Name: Michael O'Sullivan (Kalgoroth)
  Race: Demon
  Age: Appears to be mid to late twenties, true age unknown (Several thousand)
  Nationality: Irish
  Gender identity: Pansexual Male
  Mini Bio: As a demon, Michael isn't necessarily a very good person. He revels in causing mischief, fear, and despair. He makes horrible jokes, taunts his enemies furiously, and honestly just makes himself out to be the villain because he absolutely lives for it. His honor code doesn't let him attack or harm anyone that isn't armed unless absolutely necessary, and afterwards he actually genuinely feels some sort of remorse for it, though he'd never admit to having anything resembling human feelings. As far as he is concerned, the sooner this century of enslavement ends, the better. He detested mortals and their society. For now, anyway. Even a demon cannot see the future, though for the time being. he would rather swallow molten silver than ever be 'friends' with anyone, especially humans.
  
• 
  He has spent countless years honing his stealth and trickery to a fine razor-edged tool. He excels at finding his way into places he shouldn't be able to get into, either by sneaking in through an existing opening, picking a lock, forcing open windows, or tricking someone into leaving a door ajar. He has a knack for illusions, is skilled with small blades and hand to hand combat, but not very keen on using pistols or other ranged weapons. He's not the worst shot, but he definitely isn't what one would call 'good', either. He has a vast array of occult knowledge, and can sense when something is hidden by magic, or is mystic in nature, but cannot necessarily tell how an item is magic, what kind of magic it is, or what it does. As do the rest of his kind, he possesses an impressive mastery of glamour and illusions, and takes great pride in tricking mortals and other beings into doing precisely what he needs them to do. What bit of sorcery he wields tends to be for frightening people or animals, but a few tricks have some small manner of potential direct damage as well. He is extremely resistant to mental manipulation, mind altering magics, and hypnotic effects due to his demonic heritage. Finally, as with all members of his kind, he is exceptionally durable, nearly immune to physical damage save for Silver, sanctified objects, purifying herbs and other similar items, and possesses incredible strength and dexterity.
  
• 
  As per usual with members of his kind, Michael is highly weak to Silver, purifying substances and herbs, binding circles, and traps specifically designed for demons. In addition to those, he also has a particular weakness to True Faith, Holy Relics, and anyone who possesses his true name may command him at will, though extracting such from a demon is immensely difficult. Under his forced oath long before joining the Order, he must also aid those in need so long as they are innocent, never raise a hand against mortals unless they be wicked and sinful, and must use every skill and ability he has to aid the greater good. This binding is without loopholes, and lasts for 100 years. Only 15 have passed.
  
• 
  To put it bluntly, Michael isn't exactly a very good person. Which isn't really saying much, since he's a demon. But he has a strange sense of honor and dignity, comports himself well, and tends to at least be polite. However, he also has a habit of working backhanded compliments into his conversations if he doesn't like you. he prefers dealing with other non-humans, and has a special fondness for Fae and Djinn, for their tricky nature and the similar plights they share respectively. Though, he also occasionally enjoys the company of vampires, if only because they are no longer human. Unbeknownst to even himself, however, there exists a small spark buried deep beneath whatever amounts to a soul for demons, a spark of something resembling good. Though in it's current state, it is more of a sputtering match in a dark, dank mine, perhaps under the right circumstances it can grow into something worthwhile, and eventually cause the ancient monster to see humanity with less dark intentions. But even then, he'd never actually admit to such things.
  
• 
  Aside from the usual dark demeanor and attitude that his kind are known for, Michael has a particular distaste for mortal sorcerers and magic workers, due in great part to his own binding. He can't tolerate cowards, braggarts or people who are too full of themselves to notice the world around them because their over inflated ego gets in the way. He has a penchant for making jokes at bad times, has a dark sense of humor, and tends to taunt enemies relentlessly even after they've been defeated or even killed.
  
• 
  For demons like Michael, time seems to flow differently. When you measure your age in centuries or millennia rather than years, you tend to forget more than most people know. As for himself, Michael doesn't remember how old he is or what he used to know. He has flashes of memory as far back as the Holy Roman Empire, but nothing concrete. For the past few centuries, he has been traversing Europe and spreading as much chaos and despair as he can, in a place already so full of such things. For someone like him, such a dark place was like the purest and most enjoyable fresh mountain air after living in the slums for ones entire life. He bounced from victim to victim, occasionally being summoned to do menial tasks for some mortal insect or another. He hadn't been bound for very long before, at most a few decades before sickness or carelessness killed his 'Master'. But, on one especially cruel evening 15 years ago, things changed. He had been targeting a middle aged man. Devout, loving, caring. He had a wife and a young son. He despised that sort of happiness most. Such people were his favorite to corrupt and crush, to lead them to their own demise without even lifting a finger. Tricking them into undoing their happiness with their own hands. He would often reminisce about a particular devout priest he had tricked and corrupted into murdering his own best friend, damning his soul. He stalked this new mark for weeks, bidding his time, learning his routines, who his friends were, what he feared most. When the time was right, he started to make his move. But something went wrong. To this day he is still unsure of how it happened, but the man saw through his Guise for just a moment, glimpsing his true demonic visage. In a panic, the man screamed and fled down the street on a dark evening. Most people were asleep or otherwise home for the night, but some few still roamed outside. He had to silence the man as quickly as he could.
  
  Haste was his downfall. In his hubris, he assumed in all his years of torment no one had ever caught his scent. In fact, he prided himself on that, seeing it as pure fact. But mortal magic users were cunning, and some were nearly as tricky as demons or fae. In his rush to see this through, he neglected to see that he was not the only one dashing through the streets that night. For you see, decades ago he had caused the fall of a great man. A man who's son swore revenge, who had witnesses the death of his father. Michael assumed him to be too young to remember, and wouldn't have slaughtered a child anyway. He found that sort of thing distasteful, which was certainly odd for a demon. Most were not above anything, any act of depravity. The child grew, learned other occult secrets, and became a rather accomplished sorcerer in his own right. Eventually, he worked out the pattern for Michael's victims, a pattern Michael himself didn't know existed, and had deduced his latest victim. When Michael fell upon the panicked man, he found himself unable to move and wracked with intense pain. A powerful binding was placed upon him, and the boy turned magician stepped from the shadows nearby, forcing him into service. Banishing or sealing him was too easy. The boy wanted Michael to atone, to be forced to right the wrongs of the world and undo the corruption he had worked so hard to sew throughout the world over the centuries. And so he was bound to an oath. For the next 100 years, Michael would do everything in his power to aid the innocent and weak, never raise his hand to any mortal if they be innocent, and to use his powers and abilities for the greater good. It was this oath that led to his joining the Order just over 15 years later. Sure, he had to swear yet another oath and be bound and branded, and he had a 'handler', but at the very least he could meet some interesting individuals, some of which shared his scorn for humanity, or parts of humanity, in some capacity or another. And the work was never boring.
  

 

[Vacuum]

Morvan Surcouf

Description: An athletic 6'3", Morvan fills his frame well with strong musculature. He tries to keep his dark brown hair managed, but can only seem to manage a "partially groomed" look. Morvan's dark blue eyes can seem somewhat vacant. Either lost in his head, or staring past what's in front of him. The other half of the time they are fully engaged. Taking in what's in front of him with his full attention, all senses alert. Morvan has a nimble step for his size, and is wary of door frames. When possible Morvan prefers a wardrobe reflecting his Breton roots.
Some formal and informal examples of outfits can be found at the bottom of the CS
Name: Morvan Robert Surcouf
Race: Human
Age: 26
Nationality: Breton
Gender Identity: Male

Skills & Knowledge: Weapons-wise Morvan carries lengths of rope with light weights on each end. Rope already serves a wide variety of uses, and the weights on the ends create more combat uses. Familiar with chain fighting from his youth, he carries around a thick silver chain for relevant missions, opting for a small silver club when the chain would be inconvenient.
Knotting, slinging, and properly weighting ropes has all come from his years as a sailor. He is also familiar with star navigation at sea. He is most familiar with the route to the new colony of Newfoundland, as he was a part of many fishing expeditions. He was never in charge of the fishing on ship, but has some passing familiarity with the process.
Since his childhood Movan had a knack for languages, learning French and Breton from a young age. He also gained a passing knowledge of Gaelic and Spanish from his years sailing. English also was a common language for Movan to hear while sailing, but most of his English was learnt after joining The Order.
Most of Morvan's study and experience with the Tainted is with Spirits. Through the rending of his mind and intense study, Morvan has learned how to empathically communicate with spirits of various levels of intelligence and power. When negotiation and soothing is impossible, Morvan has also studied forms of protection against spirits. He is currently devoted to discovering ways of luring spirits to new territory or haven for them to inhabit, though with limited success.

Personality/Flaws: Some queer warping of Morvan's mind has left some oddities behind. He seems to have expended all secret keeping facilities of his mind to keep The Order safe. As a result, he often tells people what's on his mind, or what his opinion is, when social convention would recommend otherwise. Luckily for Morven, he also has been stripped of embarrassment. This does not mean he can't realize when he has made a mistake, or feel bad for hurting someone; he just doesn't consider the consequences beforehand. Morvan still tries to keep words that would hurt others to himself, but is not always successful. On missions for The Order, he stays out of the way for any intrigue-heavy aspects of the missions.

The assumption most people are good people is Morvan's running philosophy. This does not mean he is easily trusts others. It is a understanding that others can be good, but circumstance has put them in a position where they feel like they have no choice. A non-lethal path is preferred if the opponent has shown a significant amount of humanity. When it comes down to a life for a life, lethality becomes much less of a quandary for Morvan. Unfortunately this can lead to a creature creating a false veil of humanity and surrendering, only to turn on Morvan once an opportune moment comes.

A cozy night spent amongst friends is an ideal one. Morvan takes each opportunity to enjoy life as a blessing. Some believe it is due to his otherworldly experiences at sea. The origin is irrelevant to Morvan, who has come to some sort of private understanding of living. It is the reason why he is willing to risk his life with The Order. Protecting the beautiful experiences in life for so many people who don't have the ability to protect themselves. It can create an unfortunate conflict when his orders take precident over saving people. Morvan understands that saving more people down the line is important, but it can cause him to hesitate at critical moments.

Backstory: The only thing Morvan had from his mother was her eyes, and a pendant. A pendant he wore since childhood. It was a childhood of hate. His father was a spiteful man, and Morvan would constantly hear rants from his father. His father was a staunch Breton regionalist, and the Breton language was fading. So Morvan constantly heard about the oppressive french government, and how they forced the Breton people to become more French with each passing year. Morvan trusted his father, and held staunchly to these beliefs throughout his childhood in Rennes.

Rennes was struggling to become self-sufficient like the other major towns in Breton. His father was a victim of circumstance and lost his job, causing a 14 year old Morvan to fall into poverty with him. Morvan ended up joining a Breton gang as an enforcer as he grew into his large stature. He struggled with the demonization that so many gang members seemed to so easily come by. He was hurting others, but he felt he had no other choice. That is until a shipping company passed through Rennes on a recruiting drive. Morvan remembered his father mentioning a cousin that was a stong sailor who died long before Morvan was born. Jumping at an opportunity for a new life, and to provide some help for his father, Morvan set off to be a sailor.

Being at sea came quite naturally to Morvan. The crisp salty air was energizing. Although the work was hard, the friendly camaraderie was a wonderful environment for him. Sailing also brought a great way to meet new people outside of Rennes, which slowly changed Morvan's perspective. Learning most men weren't all that different when it came down to it. It morphed his staunch regionalism into a healthy pride for his culture, and a wish to preserve it. Morvan slowly moved up the ladder of seniority throughout his years of sailing, being a respected sailor amongst his company despite his age.

Over his years of sailing, Morvan encountered many an odd sight. Similar to the stories one might hear at an tavern late at night, but dismiss as superstition. A glace of what might be a mermaid beneath the waves. The distant call of a siren. Churning mists, unbounded by the call of the wind. These experiences were slowly opening his mind to noticing these signs of the tainted throughout the world. One night, a warm muggy fog swept across the deck of Morvan's vessel. Once the crisp night air had rolled back in, Morvan had disappeared. Some older members of the crew recalled a similar apparition, and thought it must have driven Morvan to insanity, causing him to jump overboard. A similar fog swept through the following night, causing a panic onboard. When it had passed, a dazed and vacant Morvan had appeared onboard again. The crew was greatly disturbed, and out of respect for Morvan chose not to throw him back to the sea. They kept him in a holding cell as they sailed along the northern coast of France. The rest of the crew would not make it back ashore.

The Order caught word of a ship returning to shore with only one crew member left aboard. Taking Morvan from the mental asylum he had been condemned to, they started the process of rehabilitating him. Morvan would join the Order, dedicated to protect the world, and help guide mankind to a safe future.

Spoiler: Fashion

Siren's Song

 

[The Gunrunner]

"You're not immortal after all."

Appearance:

Though short, at 5'9, Adrianus has the air and presence of a veteran hunter. His expressions are hard, his skin is rough and marked, and his build is athletic. Four jagged claw-marks along the right forearm, and a burn-scar over the left hand, act as definitive proof of his combat experience. On the left shoulder is a tattoo of an anchor hung over an x-crossed saber and rifle. In the wilds, his soldier origins become apparent as he wears the old service dress uniform of his military days - Though the unit number and name have been ripped off, the sergeant's chevrons proudly remain. The left sleeve is tattered, a remnant from what caused his burns, but otherwise the outfit is decently maintained - High-class stitching apparent in some areas of damage. Satchels hang on the sides of the hunter, and he wears rigging as well as a backpack. His dark brown hair is often cut short and combed backwards, to keep an air of professionalism. Facial hair has been allowed to grow to a short, rough beard, well trimmed to show care and maintenance. In the cities, he dresses practically - Though he has little attention to fashion, he has plenty towards comfort. Otherwise his attire is plain - if it is good enough for a common man, then it is good enough for him. Around his neck, leading under the front of his undershirt, he wears a crucifix.

Name: Adrianus van de Beenhouwer, 'The Dutchman.'

Race: Human

Age: 45

Nationality: Kingdom of the Netherlands

Gender identity: Cis Male

Skills & Knowledge:
'Clear the way!': Werewolves, vampires, and demons. How is a human to compare? Firearms and magic, certainly, but Adrianus prefers to fight in close quarters. He is not a skirmisher, he will fight on the frontline the same as anyone else - Using a mixture of various explosives and weapons, he can provide himself the advantages he needs to fight on a more level field. Silver powder kept in the air, chlorine or hydrogen sulphide, timed explosives, shotguns, smoke and flash bombs, it is all on the table. Though he is an amateur, he knows enough about chemistry to make things explode, and make breathing a very dangerous practice.

Hidden hand: Nothing is faster than a bullet, but many are faster than a mere human's hand. Adrianus has drilled his muscle memory and trained his attunement to body alignment to a knife-edge; through peripheral vision, or photographic memory, he can align the barrel of his pistols to make trick-shots against those engaged in close-quarters battle with him. The result: A pistol pointed behind his back, tucked under the arm, pointed to the side, eyes on one foe while aiming to dispatch another. A target must constantly be dodging under the assumption of being in harm's way.

Jungle Fighter: The Java war forced Adrianus to learn how to hide, how to survive in the wilds, and how to set an ambush that will dispatch threats quickly. Very useful skills for a hunter. Many of those traps and camouflage methods he used in that war he continues to use today, with some needed modifications.

Weaknesses:
- Stubborn: One of an indomitable will, but that is not always a good thing; though not one who will back down easily, that goes the same for when one definitely should. If Adrianus has made a decision, he will carry it out. If he has taken a target, he will follow that contract. If he has made up his mind, damn your opinion. Only friends or superiors can hope to change his mind, while the others are better off letting him get himself hurt.

- The butcher of Estertown: Though officially cleared of wrong-doing, the controversy over the actions he took remains a sour note for those who disagree with... extended necessities. The vampire community and he are often at odds, as are those in agreement with their plight. Adrianus has difficulty in gaining help from individuals of either group.

- Leap before you look: Adrianus' mind runs quickly, and in the heat of battle he rarely thinks before acting. In times where he needs to improvise, he makes the new decision and immediately acts on it, often forgetting to account for something just in his peripheral.

Personality: Adrianus' questionable nature is quite apparent to those who know of him, and something he cares little to think of. He hunts for fun, the thrill of competition where the stakes are highest. Protection of the innocent is just a side note that keeps his conscience from nagging at him, and the coin a means to continue his work. He is quite selfish around strangers, though protective and helpful to comrades and friends - Indeed, in fact, very needy and sacrificial towards them. He is blunt and closed-minded, preferring to not trouble himself with moral dilemmas and the like in order to keep things simple. Things are right, or wrong - That is, effective, or not. He is a cold utilitarian, though not unshakably so. Despite such, Adrianus is not an evil man; Merely, of a different perspective.

Adrianus, for all his faults, is at least an honest man. He sees no point in lies and manipulation, and wears his emotions plainly on his sleeve. Grudges and wrongs are satisfied immediately, giving him the occasional reputation of a hot-head. Regardless, whether an enemy or a friend, he will not hide his opinion of you. If a mistake is made, he will say as much, if one has a weakness, he will say so. The rule applies to anyone, even himself. Sadly, as a result of this aspect of his character, he is a horrific liar - That is, in the rare circumstance he will attempt it. All-in-all, Adrianus is a highly effective soldier and line-breaker, but far more disadvantaged in the cities - where political manipulation, conspiracy, and lies are commonplace.

Character flaws:
As stated, Adrianus is a terrible liar. A man without ability to manipulate others - He is blunt, and honest, to enemies as well as friends. Verbal trickery flies right over his head, or he simply does not see the point, or he will not degrade his character. Whatever the reason, he wears his emotions on his sleeve, and this fact is revealed very quickly to those who interact with him.

Backstory: Adrianus' upbringing was one of the things that prepared him for what was to come. His upbringing was not abusive, nor filled with tragedy - His father was poor, true, but there was enough money to eat when they were hungry and to go to school. However, his family never wanted a child, and the accident that was Adrianus was not taken with enthusiasm. He grew up with a distance between him and his parents, not met with abuse but with little guidance or care from them. It caused him to become strong and independent, but with an unbareable loneliness. Still, he learned to deal with his problems his own way, and largely on his own. He came to rely on friends rather than family to give him a feeling of care and companionship, though he would be known as somewhat needy of them. As Adrianus grows older, he works beside his father as a butcher. Life is... boring, and disappointing. The protections of his childhood dwindle, taking more and more berrations from his equally disgruntled parents, Adrianus becoming an outlet for them to deal with their woes. He slowly finds himself increasingly exhausted, the presence of his parents and the tedium of his life unbareable. Every day the same routine, again and again, for years. Following Belgium's independence, the Netherlands is focused on making up the loss from their colonial territories. In a desperate attempt to find meaning, or joy, or excitement, he enlists with the Korps Mariniers.

Adrianus joins for action, and action is what he gets. The motto of the Mariniers: "As far as the world extends." Adrianus would learn the meaning; first he is deployed to the East Indies during the outbreak of the Java war - Local residents have rallied to a disgruntled Javanese aristocrat, augmented by chinese mercenaries. The colonial forces have lost central Java and retreat to the capital city, now under siege. The task is simple: Reinforce our brothers, break them out of the city, and end the insurrection. A motivation to any decent man, surely, but motivation is easy before the gunpowder fills the air. Things are different once feet hit the beaches, and they are fired upon on the shore. Then, when Adrianus stepped passed falling brothers and fought in the cacophony of gunfire, throat raw and eyes watering from powder, that is when he found a spark to life. He fought hard - They all did - and their brothers are fought to freedom. A path out of the city carpeted with wet crimson. Following the victory, Adrianus remains stationed. 'Just for a time,' he is told, but the Javanese are more tenacious than that; the army, defeated but not dead, continue to fight for their prince - A guerilla war, brutal and effective. Adrianus would often see their fellow Javanese in the corpse pits, civilians and enemies dumped in one hole. Civilians killed by Dutch and Javanese both. A jihad, the prince had declared - A jihad against the Dutch, and a jihad against apostate Javanese. A contempt for civilians on both sides, drawing more and more bodies to the large pits in the ground. For two years the raids and ambushes continue, with a compromised hinterland incapable of being defended. In response, the dutch deploy highly mobile detachments to small forts scattered around the region. Adrianus is one of those sent to assist in this effort, based in one of the farther forts. There, the paranoia that a guerilla fight can create is... deeply clear; one must always be prepared, always be ready, for they are never safe. It is a lesson one learns quickly, or dies. The simplicity of it separates the weak from the strong, though even what's left is not guaranteed to survive; the patrol goes as planned, at first - Their route is finished, and they are on their way back when the shots ring out. From either side, they are rushed and attacked by Javanese rebels. Some are shot, some are hacked apart. Adrianus and the patrol are left to fight with their bayonettes, only to be massacred. The bodies fall, skulls split and skin plaster from blood-loss. Adrianus fights his way through the attack, through an opening - any opening - and makes a run for it. He drops the rifle, rips away his rigging, and retreats deep into the forest. Deeper, and deeper. Shots barely miss his head, the sounds of nearby footsteps and steel close behind, but they slowly grow quiet. More, and more. Adrianus doesn't know how long he has ran for, he is only thankful to have survived. He wipes the sweat from his brow, downs the rest of his canteen, and looks about the jungle. It is then that he realizes he is lost.

Lost in a foreign land's wilds, with guerillas hunting for his skin and uniform, without arms or comrades. Adrianus is forced into a situation where he must learn how to hide and survive, or his body will never be found. He is a clumsy man, inexperienced in the extreme. But he could fight, thank god. It is his only saving grace when a lone scavenger happened to find him hiding in a bush. The man was able to scream - Adrianus would need to run - but the man was killed, eventually. Deeper into the jungle, or perhaps out of it, or parallel to it. It is impossible to say. He moves by day, and sleeps by night. He must constantly dodge the guerillas, search for traps, cover his tracks, and find food and water to survive. Dehydration is not the issue - the land is tropical after all - but finding safe food, and avoiding disease, is. Sadly, hope and prayer is not enough to avoid the dangers of the rainforest. Due to berries, or a poisonous animal, or mushrooms, or contaminated water, he is viciously sick one night. Sat against a tree, stomach writhing in pain, sweat pouring from him, his eyes slowly adjust to see something in the wild - Something that, in all the stories of the pillaged New World, he has never heard of before. Huge, black, with eyes of pale blue, hunched over and jaw slack and pendulous.
The first time Adrianus had witnessed the tainted.

He ran, or tried. His sickness wouldn't allow him to run, restricting him to a pathetic and desperate limp. The beast stalked close behind, its amusement towards its prey's efforts being the only thing saving Adrianus from death. Though it is coming. He hobbles, fear and panic driving him into something of a flailing sprint. The beast's hoarse chuckling is terrifying, and soul crushing. There is no escaping it, not like this. Death is coming. Adrianus' eyes catch the movement of a distant figure. His breath catches in his throat, and his tired mind forms the plan quickly. "D-dutchman. Dutchman! Dutchman!" The figure turns, and raises something in his direction. "Dutchman! Dutchman!" the figure stops, and the rifle drops - the voice speaks in panic and surprise, "Benda apa itu!?" The rifle switches targets, and a bright flash lights the guerilla for but a moment. The round hits flesh behind the marine, and the beast scuffles with great thudding steps. Adrianus hears the rifle drop, but the guerilla does not escape in time. Adrianus drops into a bush, covers himself quickly in fistfuls of mud, and waits. The great silhouette of the beast rumbles and turns, with the sound of tearing meat and breaking bones. The sound continues for a countless time, before stepping away and disappearing into the night. Adrianus waits for it - A half hour, an hour and a half, two hours. Until he falls asleep.

As morning brings him back, Adrianus does not find clues to what the beast is, or where it is. All that is left behind are the eviscerated remains of the guerilla. The beast is gone, at least, and that is what he must focus on. There are other concerns to worry about. He is not able to break free from the guerillas, though he continues to try. He must hide, scavenge food, cover his tracks, day after day. Over time, through trial and error and time, he learns to do these things reliably. Thus, he builds his skills. He learns to copy the traps set by the rebels, finds their camps, and - when most bold - sets his ambush for a solitary scout. He lives like this for years, until it is 1830. The dutch have finally lured the Prince into a trap, and he has been captured and exiled. The rebellion is crushed, and the dutch soldiery move deeper into the hinterland to drive off the remnants. They don't expect to find much, and they definitely did not expect to find Adrianus.

Following his experiences in Java, his military service is unremarkable. He earns himself two chevrons in his part reclaiming the island, and moved back to the ships. What follows is simpler work: defending trade ships, and occasionally augmenting colonial troops. Sumatra is a new ambition of his homeland, but he has little interest in the conflict. Naval guns and colonial troops are often enough to handle what insurgents are there, and handle the butchery of punishing the locals. He takes no pleasure in witnessing the brutality of it, the reality of witnessing the Dutch military dispatch a struggling people dawning on him more and more. Through all of it, he never forgets what he saw in Java. After the Sumatran expedition, he retires from the navy and returns home.

At home, Adrianus puts his military earnings to use. He soaks as much knowledge as he can find on mythology, history, ancient rumours and local fairy tales. He travels through the Dutchlands, swallows his national pride and scours Belgium, and moves south to interview the retired colonials and shipmen of Spain. Information is hard to find, but it is there. When not scouring for the hidden truths, he reads on chemistry, poisons, survival manuals. Slowly, but surely, he learns the truth - The secret world of monsters that exists under the nose of civilization, that there are things which no man sees and can ignore. It is a fascinating discovery, and he'd heard of plenty more to find in the americas. Thus, he boarded a boat to the south of the new world.

Since then, he has become an extremely experienced hunter. A former soldier, knowledgeable of poisons and chemistry, he started hunting with the skillset to build into something unique. Originally operating outside of the order, following rumours and strange complaints from areas too remote to garner official attention. It is here that he first applies his trade, referring to himself as a 'problem solver,' employed by those who knew not what comes. No questions would be asked, and no answers given, when the problem of disappearing townsmen or odd affliction simply vanished. And there were certainly no answers to be given towards the strange scratches and wounds he'd have on returning for pay. He remains unaware of the Order at all until the Estertown massacre, an event which solidifies his controversial reputation. While the matter has been officially cleared, the vampire community continues to feel strongly about Adrianus' place in the Order. Regardless, he has served dutifully and since followed their rules to the letter. Today, he has been with the Order for many, many years. An incredibly useful agent with, though admittedly brutal, highly unique and efficient tactics. It is this unique skillset and extensive experience that has caused him to be assigned to join the new task force.

Relationships: (if you have any pre-story ties to any other characters list them here, otherwise they can be added as the story progresses.

 

[Lioness075]

LaFrae, L.

• General
• Appearance
• Personality & Biography
• Skills
• Tools & Weapons
• Extra

• Full Name
  Luness LaFrae
  
  Gender & Identity
  Asexual Biromantic Female
  
  Age
  27-years-old
  
  Race
  Werecat (Iberian Lynx)
  
  Nationality
  American
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  Hair
  Luness keeps her hair short for the most part, pulling it back into a short ponytail as is needed. She doesn't bother much with styling it, so a messy ponytail is her usual look. She does let her hair fall over her left ear when in human form, though. Her hair is mostly a light brown with light red showing in direct sunlight.
  
  Eyes
  Luness has heterochromia, with her left eye being hazel in her human form and golden in her cat form, whereas her right eye is a mossy green in both forms. Her eyes stand out against her fair skin and are usually the first things a person notices about her appearance.
  
  Height
  5’5"
  
  Figure
  Luness is lean and muscular.
  
  Attire
  Luness dresses like a man despite the times, as she does not like how restricting and useless female attire is at this time. She was raised as a huntress as well, which meant she rarely wore what females should wear anyways. Below is the typical attire she would be seen wearing. She also wears black combat boots at all times.
  
  Spoiler: Attire

  
  
  Notes
  Luness has two tattoos, most notably the one on her right forearm. It is of a butterfly sitting on a small branch with leaves and is one of several focuses she uses to try and help herself calm down in certain situations. It reminds her of a peaceful time in her life, which is a rarity for her. Her other tattoo is of a jaguar roaring on her left shoulder. It is a family tattoo that everyone gets at the age of 18-years-old.
  
  Werecat Form
  
  Spoiler: Full Werecat Form

  
  Spoiler: Half Werecat Form

  
  Luness also has a half-way form the she can shape shift into. In this form, Luness' face becomes that of her werecat's form. Fur will cover her entire body and her hands will not be paws, but will instead be elongated palms and fingers with claws. She will also have a straightened back like a human instead of having the flexible spine of her full Iberian Lynx form, which allows her to run on all fours. Her feet and legs fully shift into that of her werecat's form, but she is able to stand on them instead of needing her hands as well to maintain balance. Luness tends to maintain this halfway form at all times unless she needs the agility and abilities of her full form or needs to rescind into her human form to blend in with society.
  
  Luness has numerous scars spanning across her body from years of fighting, and hunting. All of her scars will remain on her body, no matter what form she takes. She does make it a point to conceal most of her scars when in her human form with long-sleeves and pants at all times. She can only do so much about the scar on her face, which she tries to conceal with both makeup and a hood on.
  The first notable scar is the jagged scar spanning from the top of her right eyebrow down the side of her right face to the edge of her chin. It goes directly over her right eyelid and eye, but her right eye is perfectly okay otherwise.
  The next one is her left ear, which is torn and is now only a small stub. She does struggle to hear out of this ear and thus, strongly dislikes for anyone to be standing on her left side. When in her human form, she makes sure that she has some hair concealing her left ear due to how obvious the injury is then.
  On her arms, her right forearm has a mangled and two-inch wide and four-inch long scar on it that is centered between her wrist and elbow, on the topside of her arm. This scar is from three different occasions, but the second time it was also broken so she actually has a scar on top of a scar. On top of the large and jagged scar, she also has a thin lined scar running from the middle of her wrist all the way to the middle of her elbow. The first time she sustained a scar there, it was a deep bite wound from a werewolf and so the bottom of her right forearm has jagged bite scars along it.
  Next scar is several burn scars on her body, which have made it impossible for any fur to grow in those places. Her burn scars are on the following places, are all about two-three inches in diameter, and all have mostly circular kinds of shapes: just above her left hip, back of her right hand, top of left shoulder, outside of left ankle, outside of left foot and then both of the bottoms of Luness’ feet have burn scars so no fur can grow on the bottom of them and thus, her paw pads are scarred as well.
  Luness also has a scar along the inside of her left ankle, from the bottom of her jutting bone, along the top of it, and then a few inches up her shin. This scar is from when she broke her ankle at one point.
• Personality
  Luness can be quiet at times, and more outspoken at other times, but typically tends to keep to herself, in the sense of self-preservation. She strongly dislikes talking about herself and usually won’t speak a lot about her past. She is also extremely loyal to someone if they prove their worth to her or if she feels like she owes them something. More often she’s only loyal because she feels like she owes people something.
  
  Luness can have a sharp tongue with her opinion on matters and her self-preservation attitude can have her at odds with most people. She takes care of herself so nobody else has to, but also understands the concept of being on a team. If a teammate goes down, Luness won't risk her life to help them, but will do her best to assist otherwise. She has yet to have a strong enough connection with anyone in the world to care about risking her own life for them.
  
  Luness is very introverted, so she can become increasingly agitated and uncomfortable the more people she is around. If she feels as if she’s in the spotlight and everyone’s staring at her, then she may even lash out at the nearest person to get everyone to back off. She's very defensive and this often gets her in fights, which could've easily been avoided.
  
  Despite all of this, Luness desires an emotional connection and a 'pack' after all she has been through. She grew up working alongside her family and does not desire to work alone forever after becoming an outcast. While she is a werecat and by no means feels a natural longing for a pack, she was raised differently. It is through this deep longing that Luness casts aside her abrasive nature at times to instead help her teammates and ensure everyone's survival at the risk of her own.
  
  Character Flaw
  Luness struggled for the first few years after she was bitten. She embraced the beast within instead of fearing it and made some regrettable mistakes. She now fears the beast as one should and has learned to control it with the determination of never succumbing to it again. Luness has learned to keep her distance from people because of how the bite affected her in the beginning. She tends to cause strife between others and herself because of this.
  
  Character Weaknesses
  Luness, like many others, has the classic Werebeast weakness to silver. She does not wear any jewelry in order to avoid any chance of accidentally touching silver and also due to a past experience. She also struggles with full moon nights and her own commendable control over her inner beast. She tends to spend those nights in a cellar or anywhere underground to try and get as far away from the full moon as possible. She even chained herself up for a few years until she felt more confident with her control. Lastly, Luness never learned how to swim. This is irrelevant to her lycanthropy, as she simply was never taught how to.
  
  History
  Luness was raised by a family of Werebeast hunters and huntresses. They are dedicated to hunting down feral Werebeasts and keeping them from wrecking havoc on the local populace. Luness grew up being trained as a huntress and staying on her toes at all times. She grew accustomed to taking everything seriously in life and staying on her toes at all times. A few of her scars are from training incidents in which she did not react quickly enough. At the age of eight-years-old, she was already being pushed through physical training regimes.
  
  Having hardly experienced a childhood, Luness does not fully understand what 'fun' is. She and her siblings would have 'fun' by playing games about hunting and savagely killing feral Werebeasts. Luness began dreaming about her first hunt alone and the different ways she could take down the enemy. This was not the most normal dream to have as a kid.
  
  By the time she turned 18-years-old, Luness had been on numerous hunts with her family and had helped take down a few feral Werebeasts with their assistance. She had most of her scars at this point, her body riddled with them after all the training and actual hunting she had partaken in. Everyone in her family seemed to be riddled with scars and it was fun to compare scars between one another. It was borderline a game for the family to see who could amass the most scars.
  At the age of 18-years old in her family, one was now allowed to undergo their first lone hunt to prove they were worthy of being a hunter or huntress in the family. This kind of test also determined if one might be exiled from the family if they failed to complete the task, which was to kill a feral Werebeast. Luness' hunt was going smoothly up until the final moment. The feral Werecat surprised her with a quick move and bit deeply into her forearm. While he was biting, she managed to deal a fatal blow, but it was too late for her. As the Werecat died, his form reverted back to human and Luness discovered that she had killed a child.
  
  With a heavy heart and gushing wound, Luness hurriedly returned home, but was not met with open arms. She ended up shoved in the family dungeon, locked up to be forgotten. Her family was ashamed of her failure and planned to kill her the following day. Alas, the full moon came out that night and Luness broke the metal bars of her cage to break free. As she was escaping, one of her sisters tried to reason with her and Luness tore into her while the Beast within raged. Her mother then tried to stop her and Luness rushed her, but her mother was armed with an iron sword and cut part of Luness' ear off when she tried to dodge the blow. Wounded even more now, Luness fled her home and escaped into the night.
  
  Luness struggled to regain control of herself for the next three years of her life. During her first year, she angrily burned the family tattoo into her arm, adamant that she had completed her hunt successfully and angry with her family for turning her away after everything. Her anger became the dominant emotion in her life for the next three years.
  It was not until she found a hermit Werecat, an old woman, in the forest that she was able to finally return to herself. The woman took her in and taught her meditations and gave her a focus in the form of another tattoo to help ground herself. She made sure that the tattoo was burned into her skin, as Luness' regeneration ability would heal normal tattoos before they could set in properly. Thus, the burned tattoo focus is still visible in her Werecat form. Luness spent three years with the woman, learning better control and finding herself.
  During her first year with the hermit, Luness received contact from The Order as an unregistered Tainted individual. Having regained her senses, Luness agreed to their 5-year trial and became all the more determined to learn control.
  
  At the age of 25-years-old, Luness awoke to the old woman dead in her bed. She had passed away peacefully in her sleep. Leaving behind her new home, Luness returned to society as a changed woman and as a Werebeast in control of herself.
  For the next year, Luness returned to her hunting lifestyle, continuing to hunt down feral Werebeasts, but now with an advantage as a Werecat herself.
  Due to The Order being unable to contain every Tainted incident across the world, many independent hunters, such as Luness, were hired in America to take care of these problems in small towns and villages.
  
  After a year of returning to this lifestyle, Luness felt lost once more and no longer felt the same connection to her family's profession as she once did. Seeking a new life, she left for the coast and boarded a ship headed for Europe. With few possessions to her name, Luness did not know what awaited her except a new life and hopefully, a place in The Order. Thankfully, her hunting job had helped her earn enough coin for the travel.
  Arriving in Europe, Luness spent the next year in Spain, as she embraced the freedom of starting anew.
  At first, she stayed in the port city she arrived in and she came across a local theater group that performed nightly. Enthralled by the musical instruments that seemed to bring back emotions she had not felt for many years, Luness became obsessed with acquiring a Spanish guitar for herself. When the musical trope had to leave town, Luness was able to convince one of the workers to sell her a spare guitar they had. She then became focused on learning how to play this instrument, as she had little else to do in the port city.
  When the next full moon neared, Luness realized she was endangering everyone around her and so she traveled out of the city and went further inland. Going forward, she kept away from any heavy populations, opting to live in a mountainous town far away from the nearest port city. Despite feeling more in control of herself now, she still did not truly trust herself around densely crowded areas and felt safer in seclusion.
  
  At the end of this final year, Luness was approached by The Order once more. Her trial had concluded and she was welcomed into their fold. Packing her few possessions, Luness traveled with the agent to Paris HQ and soon began her next chapter in life.
  
  Personal Goals
  Luness seeks redemption for the wrongs in her life more than anything else. She still cannot forgive herself for what she has done and so she seeks her redemption by ridding the world of feral and dangerous Werebeasts, keeping a count of them to reassure herself that she's not a complete failure.
  
• 
  Skill: Luness is skilled in throwing knives as a means of maiming her enemy and then giving her the opportunity to get in a killing blow.
  
  Skill: Luness knows some basic first aid, up to even being able to stitch her own wounds.
  
  Skill: Luness also has a pair of iron daggers for close combat, but they’re not her specialty so she does her best to avoid this kind of combat. She actually can deal more damage with her own claws, as she was trained to know key weak points in both humans and Werebeasts.
  
  Skill: Luness is quite skilled at hurdling over barrels and crates in her way, along with quickly navigating a tight crowd. She can move quickly and quietly, which are the primary skills of any good huntress.
  
  Ability: Luness has the basic abilities of any Werebeast, with the heightened night vision as a Werecat.
  
• 
  Item: [Tools] - Luness has a pouch on her hip that she keeps plants and materials for medicinal purposes. She also has a small pestle and mortar in her knapsack in addition to always having some bandages handy or spare cloth to use.
  Item: [Weapons] - Her iron throwing knives and daggers along with their hilts along her chest and waist.
  Item: [Tools] - Luness also has a number of small traps and tools she uses for wearing down and trapping her prey.
  
• 
  Luness has an opium addiction, which she acquired shortly after she left the old woman to rejoin the real world. Having spent those three years secluded away from the real world, she had forgotten how bad it really was. Everything hit her hard and she found that an opium pipe distracted her to a degree. Thanks to her heightened healing ability, Luness can never damage her lungs doing this.
  
  Luness acquired one of the first acoustic guitars when she left behind America and began traveling across Europe, specifically when she was in Spain. She only knows a few chords and makes up little songs here and there, but enjoys how peaceful she feels when she plays it. It reminds her of better days. She keeps it slung upside down over her back when she's traveling. Otherwise, she'll leave it wherever she's temporarily staying.
  

 

[kase9187]

Jackson Gindel​

Name: Jackson Gindel

Age: 32

Species: Human, through and through.

Nationality: American

Gender identity: Demiromantic Asexual Male

Appearance:
A clean gentleman who likes to sport light, nonrestrictive formalwear over armor and such. He is about six foot two, and weighs approximately 200 pounds. His hair is kept short to prevent it from getting in the way, his skin is healthy enough. The back of his hand sports a scar from an injury he never divulges to anyone. His clothing is usually clean of blood or other bodily fluids from the beasts he's killed, mostly because he's diligent about keeping clean.


Weaknesses:
Jackson is very much a man who doesn't like to get up close and personal, due to his ineptitude with combating in close quarters. He carries around only a rapier hidden in his cane and a Sword Breaker, both made of silver. He prefers to use long range tactics to kill his targets, preferring a single shot to a barrage. Lengthening out combat is something he doesn't like, as he's not armed or geared for drawn out combat. The longer combat goes, the more likely he gets taken down. Because of his detest and weakness with close combat with melee, he carries around a revolver with quite a punch, to persuade enemies not to get too close.

Skills and Knowledge:
Jackson has trained with several guns, preferring rifles and such to pistols. He likes single shots rather than drawing out the combat. He has trained in fencing and knows how to stab (albeit awfully crude and horrible), but he excels at gunplay. His occult knowledge comes from hours of research into occult rituals, researching dozens of different cults in order to get a broader spectrum of knowledge overall. However, this has left his specialized knowledge quite lacking.

Personality:
Jackson is very much a calm and collected man. Whereas others might be tempted to rush off into battle, waving their silver weapons about like typical barbarians and berserkers, Jackson is content to act as firing support. He likes to remain in the background, content with letting everyone else sort out problems that don't involve him. Any that do are usually solved with the precision and speed of a trained surgeon, as that's all this taint is to him: A cancer to be removed.

Towards most Tainted, Jackson is at the very least skeptical of their true intents. At times, he finds no qualms with Tainted allies going up to the chopping block if they had wasted their one chance. He's as merciless to the Tainted threatening the world as a normal person is merciless to an ant or spider beneath their boot. They elected to terrorize the world of man, and he won't hesitate in showing them the consequences of that choice. Preferably by making their existence as short as possible with a well placed sniper round to the head.

However, one can enter his good graces, although it's a bit hard. He prefers more calm and serious people, and while it might seem a bit cold still and he doesn't say it often, one can realize when he considers someone a friend. He's liable to talk to them sometimes, mostly to talk about research or to make small talk when he's got nothing else better to do. He's liable to teach someone with the right incentive and reception his research and gunplay.

His hobbies include his research he conducts, as he loves theorizing and thinking about certain points. He likes thinking about what might work that hasn't been tried yet. He loves reading, preferring classical literature and supernatural fiction. Finally, as he's proficient in gunplay, he likes to participate in shooting competitions sometimes. He doesn't participate all the time, but rather when he deems it fit to test his skills. Actively participating in each of these activities is a good way to help improve your standing with him.

Character Flaws:
Jackson has prejudice (whether founded on reality or simply because) of most tainted beings. He hates the ones working against the order with a cold calculated heart and simply acts frigid to the Tainted in the order.
Jackson's cold attitude extends beyond the Tainted to everyone else around him as well. He doesn't prefer socialization, but getting things done. You can take him out to a bar, but don't expect to get him to open up to some hidden inner child or super extrovert.
Jackson is very much a convincing liar. To the Order, he doesn't lie, as that would be detrimental. However, to anyone outside the order, he will fluently and regularly lie to with concerning ease. Almost enough to make fellow Order members question as to whether his truthfulness to the Order is yet another lie...

Backstory:
Jackson's past is somewhat of a mystery, though one can tell that he had several things happen to him. His parents were apparently both dead by the time he joined, he was attacked by the Tainted prior to the Order finding him, and he had an interest in things that were a bit... strange.

Jackson was around twenty when he first realized something was wrong with the world. At that time, he was known as Daniel Arthur. He had been travelling home when something jumped at him from the darkness, a wolf-like creature but much larger than a common wild dog. He threw himself from his horse and watched the creature tear at his steed, taking the opportunity to slip away in the darkness. He washed himself off in a river to lose the scent and managed to make it home as dawn broke, his Sunday finest ripped and torn. He set about looking for any information as to what the creature was, finding nothing but myths and fairy tales. Every time he'd ask a knowledgeable person in town he'd receive skeptical eyebrows as they heard his wild tale of that night. Eventually, he elected to listen to the fairy tales and prepped. He made it very clear to whatever had attacked him that he was defenseless and waited for the trap to be sprung. The Order caught wind of his investigation when they came to find the rogue werewolf.

The Order agents that heard of this man investigating by himself went to confront him only to find a dead werewolf and a very frazzled Daniel with a still smoking revolver. He'd turned some of his miscellaneous silver objects into ammunition for his revolver, thinking and realizing the large wolf-like creature was most likely a werewolf of some sort. He noticed the agents come in and he pointed the revolver at them, a mixture of fright and determined courage in his eyes. After realizing the agents weren't werewolves like the beast he'd shot, he lowered his gun. The room was in shambles.

People wondered what happened to Daniel that night in his hometown. People say someone broke into his house and murdered him, some say he went insane and killed himself. The change from Daniel Arthur to Jackson Gindel was actually his idea, to make him vanish completely. He spent the next few years in training, honing his fencing talent to a mediocre level while his shooting skyrocketed. His aim was great, and he immediately took to the rifles and long ranged guns. Over the years, he researched the occult and other Tainted in his spare time, especially reading up on werewolves to prevent himself from getting jumped like he did before.

He's seen several Tainted come and go, and refuses to get attached to any because of a specific reason: His only Tainted companion, the werewolf Sarya Young. Despite his innate distrust of her being a werewolf, the two were relatively closer than he is with any Tainted today. She'd confided in him about the urge to relapse, at times, the desire to lose control and to hunt anything at will. She always told him to try and make her repression of it lessen, by divulging how much it called to her. However, she'd relapsed and gotten expulsed from the Order. He'd thought he'd seen the last of her... until half a year later, when reports of a werewolf terrorizing the slums of a city in Spain. He was part of the team released to go find this werewolf, and it turned out to be Sarya. He managed to appeal to her, and she stopped. The other agents had been mercilessly torn apart by her claws or grievously injured and fainted. She turned back and saw what she'd done and she cried. Jackson looked at her with pity, pity for the friend he'd lost.

Not many people know what happened, but all that they knew is that Jackson managed to kill Sarya and helped the agents get back safely, the ones who'd survived. He never talked about what transpired that night, and any who ask him are met with the sight of his spine-chilling glare. To him, Sarya didn't exist anymore, and he refused to talk about her at all.

Last edited: August 23, 2020

 

[Saturn_moon]

Name: Mouse
Age: Early 20s in appearance but over 400 years old (She stopped keeping track after a hundred or so years)
Gender Identity: Female
Race: Ghost
Nationality: English (Maybe?)

Appearance:
Mouse stands at 5’4” and has a waif-like figure. For the most part, she looks to be in her early twenties with olive skin, dark eyes, and raven black hair worn in a short, almost badly cut, blunt bob. She wears a long black dress with billowing sleeves. It’s simple if a bit dated. To everyone’s bemusement, she never wears any shoes and walks around barefooted all the time.

Her vengeful form however is a gruesome sight. Her hair becomes a matted, tangled, knotted mess and large bruises and scars cover her entire body. She has sallow skin and pupil-less, sunken eyes. A part of her skull is concave and blood streaks down her face from the wound. It is assumed that this form is a reflection of how she looked when she died.

• Skills and Knowledge
• Weaknesses
• Personality
• Character Flaws
• Background
• Relationships

• 
  Commune with the dead: Mouse is able to speak with those who have recently passed and have yet to cross over to the afterlife or have their souls tethered to the material plane due to unresolved issues. She can only speak with spirits that are willing.
  
  Runic Magic: Mouse has a deep understanding of runic magic as this is most commonly used for binding, warding, and freeing ghosts. It is also what she uses to commune with the dead. However, runic magic does have it's limitations. It is only used against ghosts and weaker spirits. Fully physical beings would barely even notice it's effects.
  
  Dream Walking: While the living sleeps and are at their most vulnerable, Mouse can enter their minds and traverse their dreams. She is unable to get hurt or physically hurt the dreamer in the dream plane making it an excellent place to carry out private or potentially risky conversations. She needs to be able to touch the being to enter their dreams.
  
  Vengeful form: Mouse can assume the form of a vengeful ghost. In this state, she gains temporary strength and speed but sacrifices her humanity and will single mindedly seek out blood. She can also instill a general sense of fear in her opponents although this doesn't have any significant lasting effect except on the weak hearted. The Order does not recommend for her to use this form too often as the longer she stays this way, the less control she has over her actions. In time, she may remain as a vengeful ghost permanently.
  
  Immateriality and Invisibility: Mouse’s form is mostly immaterial and as such she can phase through most material objects and human beings. She can make herself “material” to them but only for a limited period of time. When humans come in contact with her, they will find her touch cold and very much like trying to grasp cotton candy. She is also able to turn invisible when no one is watching, assuming the being can even see her in the first place. These two skills aid in her primarily work as a spy and scout.
  
  Hand-to-hand combat: Due to her immateriality, Mouse is unable to use any weapons and has instead been trained by the Order in various martial arts. She prefers style which are less reliant on strength, focusing instead on redirecting her opponent's force against them. As a ghost, she is also more agile and light-footed than humans.
  
  Others: Mouse is not necessarily brilliant but in her 400 plus years of existence she has accumulated a wealth of knowledge about occult practices, historical events, and missions undertaken by the Order. She currently serves as one of the Order’s oral historians and archivist.
• 
  Unlike the other tainted, ghosts are less susceptible to certain herbs, blessed oils, and silver. Although she is not immaterial to them, she also doesn't have a physical body to hurt. At most, these weaken her while she is in contact with them. A ghost's true downfall are binding circles, warding spells, and talismans. Not only do they create an inpenetrable shield, binding circles can also be designed to drain a ghosts of their energy which prevents them from ever escaping. Once drained, ghosts can be banished to another plane.
  
  She's terrible at using any weapons that aren't her hands or feet. Even if she were to get her hands on them (Hah), she wouldn't know what to do.
  
  Mouse's ability to interact with humans is also highly dependent on how much they believe in her. The majority of society will pass by her without even a glance and while it has it's advantages, it can also be extremely frustrating especially when she needs to speak to certain people.
  
  As Mouse's existence is tied to her body, destroying it will also destroy her.
• 
  Mouse rarely has a smile on her face and the few times she does, it’s hard to tell if it’s actually a smile or a smirk. She speaks without tact and uses sarcasm, wit, and deadpan humor frequently making conversations with her almost a painful experience. Not that she minds as the last thing she cares about is forming any sort of close personal bonds claiming that they are nothing more than a hindrance to her existence. Those who do not know her well (which is most) find her cold and uncaring. In truth, she believes that any relationship she shares with another living being can only end in sadness and hence avoids it like the plague. Underneath all the emotional armor she wears is a kind and warm soul who once did her best to help those in need.
  
  She has since become fatalistic, cynical and jaded. Having seen time and time again the horrible things humans are capable of doing, along with their apparent inability to learn from their mistakes, she holds little faith in the good of humankind and sometimes question whether they are even worth protecting. She believes that their demise - likely by their own hands – is inevitable. This puts her in direct conflict with the Order’s ideology much to her handlers’ chagrin.
  
  Naturally curious and rebellious, Mouse had a difficult time following orders and doing what she is told. This definitely posed extreme difficulties for the Order at the start and while she excelled in all her tests during training, she wasn’t allowed to go on any mission for several years, much longer than the normal training period for new recruits, as they were worried she wouldn’t be able to follow instructions. Under Liesel's mentorship and training, Mouse learned to control her temperament and work effectively in a team. She still has the occasional tendency to wander off and do her own things, it is only if she has a feeling that it may be of great importance to the team's task at hand.
  
  Mouse has been aimless in her existence for a long time and finds little excitement in life. She is unenthusiastic and indifferent about most things and has recently even been toying with the idea of finding a way to put her soul to rest. She believes this requires her to find her body (although probably just bones by now) but has been unable to having no memories about her previous life.
• 
  Mouse believes she has nothing to lose seeing as she’s already… well, dead. As such, she can often time be reckless and seemingly rushes head first into many situations with complete disregard for any potential dangers. Mouse’s handlers will also tell you that she is impossibly stubborn and any attempts to change her mind or attitude will only be met with extreme resistance. For all the knowledge she holds, she doesn’t possess a lot of foresight and finds it hard to see the big picture. These traits combined means Mouse can and definitely will hold a grudge against those who have hurt her or those she cares about.
• 
  Mouse’s earliest memory is of her waking up as a ghost with almost no recollection of her previous life in Bethlehem Hospital which was known for housing the mentally insane (it was more commonly referred to as Bedlam by the locals). To her immense dismay, she found herself bound to the place by strange unknown forces and unable to leave. She quickly learned what a horrible place Bethlehem was. Patients were kept isolated and chained in squalid conditions and the so-called treatment administered was nothing more than torture in disguise.
  
  While the caretakers and doctors were generally fearful, the other patients took more kindly to her and she took it upon herself to do what she could to ease them of their loneliness or comfort them after every “treatment” session. Of all the patients, she grew exceptionally close to a young man named James, a brilliant young scientist and inventor who was unfortunately a victim of archaic times. Unable to understand his research and creations, his village grew fearful and banded together to have him arrested and admitted into Bethlehem.
  
  Despite the injustice towards him, James somehow kept his optimism which drew Mouse like a moth to a flame. As a man of science, he was at first skeptical of her presence and in fact for several months was unable to even see her. Eventually James opened up to her and they quickly formed a friendship. James would teach her science and engineering while Mouse did her best to educate him about the occult. When the Great Plague of London struck in 1665, it was almost inevitable that the patients of Bethlehem would contract the disease. James was not spared and passed on with Mouse at his side holding his hand.
  
  Blaming Bethlehem for James’s death, she started terrorizing the staff. The simple pranks she used to play on them mostly out of amusement were now mean and almost cruel. However, the staff at Bethlehem never reported the haunting as they feared doing so would put a spotlight on the establishment and reveal the methods used to treat their patients. A year later, the hospital moved to a new location under the pretense that the building was no longer adequate for their needs and Mouse was left to wander the empty, decrepit halls alone for years, her spirit still bound to the place.
  
  When the Order came to investigate this haunting, rather than finding a crazed and vengeful ghost as the locals had described, they found Mouse, perfectly sane but lonely and confused. A thorough investigation of the premises led the Order to discover a binding spell carved into a wall in one of the patient’s rooms and upon destroying it, freed Mouse from her ties to the dreadful place. Noting the advantages of recruiting another ghost to their ranks, the Order tried to convince her to return with them. Having nowhere else to go, she agreed.
  
  Arriving at London HQ, she was placed under the supervision of Liesel Becker. Liesel was an expert Vampire Hunter and taught Mouse the ways of the Order amongst many other things. Mouse grew to see Liesel as a mentor, confidant, and mother figure while Liesel who was unable to have children of her own, welcomed the new relationship.
  
  For over a decade, Mouse was almost happy, but even in death God took no mercy on her and she returned one day from a mission to news that Liesel was dead, her body ripped to shreds by a pack of vampires. Fueled by her grief, Mouse resolved to do two things: The first was to send the vampires that killed Liesel to the deepest depth of hell and the second, to never be subjected to wiles of her human emotions again.
  
  
  Spoiler: Extra Backstory

  Mouse’s real name is Cassandra which she found out by listening in on the Bethlehem staffs’ whispers and searching through the hospital’s records. The nickname Mouse, or Maus in German, was given to her by Liesel as a term of endearment due to her ability to sneak around unnoticed like mice in one’s home. After Liesel died, she took on the name Mouse as she felt more attachment to that name than she ever did for Cassandra even if it sounded absolutely ridiculous. It was also her way of remembering Liesel as she is unable to keep any of Liesel’s material possessions on her.
  
  The runes in her room was carved by Mouse herself. She had intended to bind her soul to Bethlehem so as to torment the people who tormented her. However, it was never meant to be permanent. She thought that once she had exacted her revenge, she would be able to move on to the afterlife. She did not realize that doing so would cause her to lose her memories neither did she account for the fact that she would not be buried at Bethlehem. Her body was instead sent back to her family and because she has no memories of where that is, she in turn does not know how to return to it.
  
  
• 
  TBC

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

Name: Cyrus Lee
Actual Name: Cyrus ibn Shahin al-Sa’Igh (Persian) / Li Xiyun (Chinese)
Nickname: Cyrus
Age: 27
Gender identity: Male
Race: Human
Nationality: Chinese
Ethnicity: Persian

Appearance: TBA

• Equipment and Tools
• Skills and Knowledge
• Weaknesses
• Personality
• Character Flaws
• Background
• Relationships

• 
  Damascus Steel: Difficult to procure and even harder to forge, Cyrus' weapons are made with Damascus Steel mixed with silver. His main weapon is the Pesh-Kabz, a traditional Persian dagger crafted to pierce mail armor and thicker hide. He also has three throwing knives he mostly uses for utility and mid-ranged attacks. Before combat he usually coats his blades with a mix of crushed herbs and blessed oils (Cyrus learned of the Italian pesto, and struggles not to call his poisons divine pesto)
  
  Spoiler: Pesh-Kabz

  
  Spoiler: Throwing Knives

  
  
  Standard Poison Making Kit: Includes several small jars of various herbs, oils, and silver dust, along with mortar and pestle, a mini cauldron, flint and steel, and empty vials for finished poisons. Cyrus finds that he often needs to make poisons on the go depending on his enemy, so he always makes sure he's able to make the right one at short notice.
  
  Night Market Cloak: A tattered cloak woven from dark fabric. It helps Cyrus blend in with the shadows be it day or night.
  
  Grappling Hook: For when he needs help getting into places, or out of them.
  
  Iron Claws: For when something high needs quick scaling.
  
  Lin Weixi's Jade Pendant: A simple gold necklace with a jade in the shape of a teardrop.
  
• 
  Spirit Communion: By melding Assassin traditions with ancient Chinese mysticism, the Night Market was able to perfect the art of ‘dancing’ with spirits (not to be confused with ghosts, who are more corporeal and with more will). At the moment, Cyrus has four contracted minor spirits: one in his dagger, and three in his throwing knives. Cyrus commonly uses these spirits to run reconnaissance, set sensory traps, or throw distractions. He can also call on the spirits to return the thrown knives back to him.
  
  Spoiler: Spirits of Silent Shadow, one of them

  
  
  Hashashiyan: The ancient art of assassination, honed and perfected for many centuries. Cyrus favors the hidden and the thrown blade, but he is also well-versed in other forms of assassination, from poisons to traps. In addition, he’s also trained in mental fortitude; mental manipulation (like charms) is less effective on him.
  
  Stealth: This skill is more than simply hiding in the shadows and passing unseen. It is the art of blending into your surroundings, even in broad daylight. Weave through crowds, stand naturally among merchants, and sit inconspicuously with beggars. Wherever he is, Cyrus can more or less disappear when he needs to.
  
  Acrobatic Mastery: What he lacks in raw power, Cyrus makes up for in dexterity, agility, and flexibility. Combined, this allows him to execute feats of grace and nimbleness with ease.
  
  Dagger Mastery: Of all the weapons available to the Night Market, Cyrus prefers the classics. And he is a proponent of the one-handed style, with its flexibility in grip changes or even hand changes. But if need be, he's able to dual-wield two daggers with enough confidence.
  
  Poison Making: As part of his studies under Thaddeus, Cyrus learned of the various herbs and plants that are fatal to the Tainted. He spends some of his free time coming up with new poisons to help in the fight against the darkness.
  
  Noodle Making: As the son of both an Assassin and a noodle maker, Cyrus considers himself an expert in the traditional art of noodle making. From the firmness of the noodles, the subtle taste of the broth, and the freshness of the toppings, Cyrus knows how to work them all into a hearty bowl of noodles.
  
• 
  For all his skills, Cyrus is but a mere human being. One wrong move, an unfortunate circumstance, and he could easily end up before Death’s door in a single moment. As an assassin, he does well enough in direct one-on-one combat. But against a group of enemies, Cyrus struggles to find his bearing. It’s even emphasized in his training-- when the enemies are many, never tarry and seek a better way.
  
  Ranged combat is also a struggle for Cyrus. Sure, he could use throwing knives, but they’re most effective when done from hiding. An enemy with guns and bows and spell slinging can easily pin him down.
  
  Magic eludes him. Sure, he works with spirits, but when it comes to actual spells he is as skilled as a newborn babe, particularly in counter-magic. This is why he loathes fighting against rouge magicians with their fancy magic circles and runes.
  
  As a traditionalist, Cyrus prefers to get up close and personal with his quarry. Gunpowder was invented by the people he lived with, but he was never comfortable with handling firearms. Too loud, too flashy, and too costly. That he had incredibly bad aim with anything that isn't his throwing knife factors a lot into that.
  
• 
  Cyrus has learned to live as two people. As Li Xiyun the noodle guy, he was the type of person who goes around the village with a smile on his face and a piping hot bowl of noodles in hand. People say he’s incredibly friendly, but also somewhat strangely distant. He’s passionate about what he likes, which for the villagers of Tsim Sha Tsui meant noodles. Kids shout for joy when he comes by, and he always spares a minute or two to play with them. He was someone the matrons of the village wanted to marry their daughters to, something that caused Cyrus much laughter and consternation in equal measure. All in all, he wasn’t someone you’d think could hurt a fly, much less kill a person.
  
  But as Cyrus the Assassin, taught in the ways of the Night Market, he has learned not to take people at face value. His first instinct is to be wary of everyone he meets, taking time to note every detail, from their poise to the way they talk to the slight creases in their brow. And all the while he takes care to show his carefully-crafted Li Xiyun grin. At work, he is quick, professional, and efficient, preferring to cut lives short than prolonging their suffering. What was the point of drawing out blood if he could get the job done sooner than later? As part of the job, he treats his spirits as equals, not tools as other Assassins of the Night Market would do. He counted his life on them, so it was the least he could do.
  
  Both these personas do their best to protect the compassionate boy who once sat with the spirit of his great ancestor and talked about the wide world and the wonders beyond the borders of understanding. That wide-eyed boy can be glimpsed beneath a starry night, in front of a crackling fire, or deep into an interesting book. Very few people have seen this boy in the past-- his family, his spirit companion, and his beloved Lin Weixi. But this same boy has also gone through the tragic deaths of his father, his beloved, and his sister… the latter by his own hand. His heart was twisted, calloused, hardened. But at the last, at the arrival of Thaddeus, the boy found some measure of purpose-- fight against the darkness, the Tainted, and maybe he could eventually find some measure of peace.
  
• 
  Mistrust is second nature to Cyrus. Everybody is either a disposable asset or an enemy unless proven otherwise. He has no qualms in using another’s misfortune if it meant succeeding the mission. He equally has no trouble ending his enemies without another thought. Even if they beg for mercy or try to explain things from their point of view, if they have been defined as an enemy, he won’t care.
  
  There are two groups he mistrusts more than others. One could say that it borders on hatred. Cyrus dislikes the British mainly because their sailors killed his beloved and brought the opium that helped drive his sister Mahin mad. It doesn’t matter if they identify as Scottish, Irish, or Norse -- if they’re white, they’re British. Even if they work with him in the Order, he still views them with thinly-veiled animosity, with the exception of Thaddeus, and a few others.
  
  More than the British, Cyrus has a special place in his blade for ghosts. Different from the spirits he works with, they have more will, more mental capacity… more potential for evil, much like how their ancient enemy Muhammad Tapir’s ghost made its way into Mahin’s mind, or so he believes. Which is why he treats ghosts with disdain, if not outright hostility. He has a better opinion of ghosts handled by the Order, but not by much.
  
• 
  To know Cyrus, one must first know his names. Born Cyrus ibn Shahin al-Sa’Igh, and later Li Xiyun, his lineage stretches back to 12th Century Persia, at the dawn of a new age, and the downfall of a crumbling stronghold. The al-Sa’Igh family were descendants of the revered Goldsmith, one of the da’i of the Order of Assassins who ruled over Aleppo at the height of their power. When the Seljuks, led by Muhammad Tapir, launched their campaign to erase the Assassin’s presence in the land, a branch of the family escaped the country and sought refuge farther east.
  
  These remnants of al-Sa’Igh crawled down the length of the Silk Road, seeking work as laborers and mercenaries-for-hire. They kept their skills and blades sharp by digging them deep into the coffers of merchants and the necks of their targets. Settling down was never an option, as their enemies kept pursuing them through cloak, dagger, and the occasional poison. Little by little, they were whittled down until only Parviz al-Sa’Igh, his wife and two sons stumbled across the border and into China.
  
  Within the expansive rule of the Yuan Dynasty, Parviz managed to lose their pursuers in a night of hide-and-seek, ending with his fingers firmly buried in their final assassin’s skull. From then on, they were finally free from a generation of animosity from the Seljuks. Lost and alone in an unfamiliar land Parviz determined to reestablish the reverent name of the Goldsmith within the halls and pagodas of China.
  
  In the centuries that followed, the al-Sa’Igh slowly melded into the shadows of the Yuan aristocracy, offering their blades once more in honor of the Assassin traditions. Their name was never written in official historical records, but people in colorful robes and tattered rags alike whispered it behind closed doors and at the bottom of baiju cups. When night fell, the darkness came alive. When Gegeen Khan was assassinated, courtiers spoke of men shrouded in shadows with glowing red eyes. When the Wanggongchang Explosion killed the Tianqi Emperor’s son, surviving witnesses swore to all the deities above that they saw a little girl, no older than seven, throw firecrackers into the Armory. As the flames engulfed the land, they swore they saw her smile-- the way an old person did in the face of inevitable death.
  
  As Parviz willed, the al-Sa’Igh family regained their notoriety, branding themselves as the Night Market. Rulers in shadow, they expertly wielded the sword and the scroll in equal measure. Always seeking to strengthen the bloodline, they melded their traditions with the mysticism of Chinese shamanistic practices. Because of these, there were always nuggets of truths in even the most outlandish of rumors. Shadows were allies of al-Sa’Igh. Spirits of their ancestors whispered to them and guided their hand. But their legacy had yet to face their greatest test, and the dawn was rising on another age of conflict.
  
  Cyrus ibn Shahin al-Sa’Igh was the second-born of a branch family residing in Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong at the time of heightened tensions with the British Empire. From a young age, he was trained by his father Shahin in the ways of the Night Market. He showed more interest in matters of the supernatural than that of the blade, something Mahin, his older sister, constantly derided him for. It wasn’t without precedent, as the al-Sa’Igh power of communing with spirits awoke early in Cyrus; he became aware of who it was years down the line, but Cyrus never thought he’d wake up one midnight and converse with the ghost of Parviz himself.
  
  Living without mortal shackles, Parviz was free to wander the world wherever and whenever he wished. He regaled young Cyrus with stories of metal snakes running along steel trails while belching smokes from holes in their heads, of grand halls that glittered with crystal and gold, and of houses that sought to pierce the heavens themselves. Not only that, but Parviz told Cyrus of the long, bloody road their family walked to survive the harshness of the world around them. And so Cyrus grew up with a thirst to see these metal snakes and glittering halls for himself, while respecting his history and traditions as a son of al-Sa’Igh.
  
  Growing up, Cyrus learned to live two lives; as Li Xiyun, the boy who delivered his father’s noodles across Tsim Sha Tsui, and as himself, who walked with the shadows and spoke to them. One customer in particular caught his fancy, and he found himself going back to Lin Weixi’s house more and more, and not because she liked noodles. His father cautioned against growing close to the natives, but how could he resist when her lips pressed against his and her fingers trailed desire across his arms and chest? She was a rose in the garb of a peasant. Her eyes glittered merrily beneath the moon. Her heart was a place of warmth and peace, and as Cyrus delved more into the shadowy legacy of al-Sa’Igh and he saw more of humanity’s corruption day by day, he sought to sink deeper into her embrace.
  
  His father, as strict as he was, remembered a time when he was as young as Cyrus, and allowed the relationship to happen. That Lin Weixi had an untapped talent for spirit communion was a huge part of that decision, and Shahin was always looking for opportunities to strengthen the bloodline. Mahin, however, had other ideas. Unbeknownst to their family, she had become a victim of the British Empire’s opium, and while it magnified her powers by tenfold, it also paved the way for an old grudge to seek revenge centuries in the making.
  
  Muhammad Tapir’s ghost whispered malice into Mahin’s ear, feeding her doubts about her own capability, and her envy at her brother’s natural skill and talent. Hurt him, the spirit said. Make him cry. Make him beg. Make him bleed. And so she would. Working as a server at an opium bar gave her the opportunity she needed. In early July 1839, she poured baiju into the cups of a group of British sailors. As she served, she spoke words of malevolence into them, etching a command into their very consciousness. And as they left the bar that night, she smiled, blissfully unaware of the far-reaching consequences of her actions.
  
  When Cyrus woke up the next morning, he immediately felt something was wrong. Before he heard the commotion outside, before he stepped out and rushed towards her house, Cyrus felt his heart tightening with fear. And then he saw Lin Weixi’s body on the dirt, bloodied, battered, almost unrecognizable. Her elderly mother, weeping, inconsolable, kneeling beside her daughter and squeezing her limp hand. Glimmering on her bruised next was a necklace of jade, his gift to her when he proposed to spend eternity in each other's arms. Something in him snapped. What would be known as the First Opium War was unfolding around him, but all he cared at that moment was revenge. In the cacophony of grudges screaming in his ears, Parviz’s reason was drowned out. They would pay, he vowed. He would gouge out their eyes, much like Parviz did with his enemies. With tear-streaked eyes he whispered this promise to the grudges swirling around him. As evening fell and the moon shone bright in the sky, he donned the cloak of the Night Market and went to work.
  
  He found the British sailors responsible soon enough. They were disembarking from a British warship looking forlorn and sober. As if they felt sorry about the sin they committed. How dare they? He lurked, and waited, until each of them were stepping into shadow and into his domain. He fell upon them one by one, blade slipping through their necks like a whisper of wind. But his work was far from over. From their bloody corpses he discovered traces of spiritual tampering. The thread led back to Tsim Sha Tsui, and it dripped red with malice. Fearing for the worst, he rushed home as fast as he could, only to be greeted by dark windows, and blood decorating the front steps.
  
  Stepping inside, the stench of fresh blood assaulted his nose. On the wooden floor lay the twisted form of his father, a red hole gaping through where his heart should be. And standing over him was none other than Mahin, hand bathed in crimson, eyes shimmering with madness, mouth wide-open in agony. Muhammad Tapir’s ghost had completely possessed the woman, and there was nothing but revenge against the Order of Assassins driving his actions. As Mahin rushed forward, hand raised to pierce through Cyrus’ chest, he felt just a tinge of pity and regret, before he ducked and sliced the inside of her elbow, stabbed straight into her underarm, and knocked her flat on the floor with a sweeping kick.
  
  There she lay, gasping, blood gurgling from a punctured lung. She kept shouting obscenities at him, vowing to wipe out the Order of Assassins until there was nothing left. Cyrus could only shake his head, and with a quick stab into her chest put an end to her misery. There he stayed the night and into dawn, sitting against the wall and staring at the cooling bodies of his family. What was the point of it all? All the history, all the struggles, all the revenge, all for naught. Parviz, finally finding voice again after the grudges have quieted, was silent himself, offering only his companionship as Cyrus decided to leave his life into the whims of time and fate.
  
  At dawn, a visitor appeared before him. A well-dressed man, with a thick beard and feral curls of dark brown hair adorning his head. In his eyes Cyrus saw a portion of his own grief, though at exactly what he didn’t know. He carried himself well enough, but Cyrus knew enough to sense something different about the man. Something hidden... something dark. If this man was the assassin sent by destiny to relieve him of his sorrow, then he was ready to welcome the knife.
  
  But fate had something else in store for him. The man, who introduced himself as Thaddeus, offered him an opportunity to help other people who were victimized by malevolent ghosts and spirits like Muhammad Tapir. More than that, he offered Cyrus a chance at making the world a brighter place by driving back the darkness slowly encroaching upon the innocent. With nothing else to live for in a land that took too much from him already, Cyrus stood up, packed his bags, and stepped out into the morning sun with Thaddeus. Carrying the burden of past ages behind him, he walked towards the future, one step at a time.
  
• 
  Thaddeus Grey -- Mentor
  
  Lin Weixi -- Lover (Deceased)
  
  Spoiler: Lin Weixi while cooking her mother's favorite dish

  
  
  Shahin ibn Benhan al-Sa`Igh -- Father (Deceased)
  Mahin bint Shahin al-Sa`Igh -- Sister, Rival (Deceased)